


On Lucky Stars

by KatcadeCascade (DreamWings231)



Series: Missing Souls | Finding Words [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fair Game Week (RWBY), Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23214739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamWings231/pseuds/KatcadeCascade
Summary: When Clover receives his Soulmate Words, he’s heard all of the stories.These Words marring his skin represent the best qualities of his soulmate, little insight to their personality or way of life or just a hint of what their bond can be."You better wish on your lucky stars you're right."-Chapter One: Fair Game Week - SoulmatesChapter Two: Fair Game Week - Comfort (with some hurt)Chapter Three: me just wrapping up this story so give me a break while i enjoy the rest of Fair Game WeekChapter Four: me still wrapping this up/fix the volume by adding non canon stuff
Relationships: Clover Ebi & James Ironwood, Clover Ebi & Robyn Hill, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi, Robyn Hill/Fiona Thyme
Series: Missing Souls | Finding Words [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1662100
Comments: 13
Kudos: 106





	1. will your mouth read this truth

**Author's Note:**

> Sup, first thing i should say is HAPPY FAIR GAME WEEK
> 
> secondly, this is a bit of a recreation to my other soulmate fic so expect some repeated events but described in Clover's perspective. yeah that all i got
> 
> thirdly, the chapter title is from Ed Sheeran's Little Bird
> 
> I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY

When Clover receives his Soulmate Words, he’s heard all of the stories.

From the gentle tones of his mother to his friends’ excited flurry in the academy, Words just mysteriously appears on people’s skin. They represent more than just the moment you realize ‘hey this person is my soulmate!’

These Words marring his skin represent the best qualities of his soulmate, little insight to their personality or way of life or just a hint of what their bond can be.

_You better wish on your lucky stars you’re right_

Clover is absolutely thrilled when it first appeared on his arm.

He can’t wait to do so many puns with his soulmate.

But all of that joy and wonder has to be tamed because there is no time limit, no known clock that chimes when soulmates meet for the first time or for the nth time either.

He would know, his parents don’t have each other’s Words but they still love each other as such. His mom found her soulmate in an old crewmate, reunited after separate sea adventures from opposite ends of the world. 

So Clover has patience, has a clear head full of hope when he first saw the maroon words appear on his left bicep.

“You got your Words! You got your Words!” Elm sang loudly as they exited the training field.

“No need to scream it to the world, the academy no less,” Clover laughed, rubbing the script tenderly. He barely just noticed it, too much in a daze after sparring with his team partner as they wait for graduation day.

In the meanwhile, he just wants to train and study with Elm even if she’s not the most scholarly person there is. When they were first paired together he instantly knew that Elm would become his best friend, simply because of her hugs.

They both shared this light atmosphere of positively and now that is all on her face as she marvels at the newly etched Words.

Elm is bouncing on her feet, “This is awesome! Oh I bet they’re going to swept you off your feet, Cloves.”

He took another minute admiring the Words, “From the sounds of it, I think we might end up in an argument. Still, nothing to worry about, I’m sure everything will be okay.”

“Ah yes, the words of wisdom from Clover Ebi,” a slow clap grabs the two cadet’s attention.

“Morning Robyn,” Clover waves at the top student. 

Robyn Hill has to be the most unconventional valor Victorian of this year’s graduating class due to her massive sarcasm and sheer determination against the usual Atlas elitist. Honestly it’s a breath of fresh air to have her on the student board and get actual work done and not contribute to some elitist priorities on the dance budget.

“Look, look!” Elm waved using Clover’s left arm.

Clover sheepishly pulls his limb back as Robyn polity takes in the enthusiasm that’s being thrown at her, “Congratulates Fish Sticks.”

He laughs at the nickname, still new to him as supposed to anything luck related. The only reason Robyn bestowed this moniker on him is because she saw dozen photos of him winning the yearly fishing tournament.

Apparently that is much more nickname worthy than event with his semblance or not.

“Thanks Robyn, now all that’s left is to one day finding them.”

“Aren’t we all,” she shrugs, “but may I recommend something?”

“Sure.”

“Keep it on the down low,” Robyn taps his Words. It’s a friendly matter but her tone is serious, “You’ll get more than a headache if people press their luck.”

Clover and Elm blinked at each other, not even considering this.

It’s not taboo to hide Words and that was once a tradition in olden days and maybe still practiced around some old bluebloods too.

For Clover he grew up seeing the Words on his parents, learned how they didn’t say each other’s Words but that didn’t stop their own love. They kept it out in the open to remember their soulmates.

While his mom has found her soulmate, his dad still hasn’t found his other mate.

“Do you really think people would do that?” Elm asks and she taps her left foot, where her Words are found. It’s definitely an unexposed space since the academy requires her wear shoes unlike him whose wearing a standard sleeveless shirt.

Clover looks at his own Words, thinking deeply, “I’ve heard stories about that kind of stuff.”

“I’m not telling you this to scare you or make you doubt people,” Robyn said, crossing her arms. “You’re too trusting for that. I’m asking you to be smart, Clover.”

He nods, “You’re always doing what you think is right.”

A thin smile is pressed in her lips, “More like I’m protecting the truth.”

Clover remembers this moment, more often than out of every other moment of Robyn when she doesn’t show up at their graduation ceremony.

The rest of the academy is confused or furious or yelling how they’re right about Robyn’s character, how she’s just another Mantle kid worming their way into the upper crust. Despite all that noise, Robyn pursues her own path.

Protect the truth.

That’s admirable Clover believes as he ties a red bandana around his Words. Robyn’s advice proved its worth a few times in his officer days. A few people probed and tried to peek at it, either for curiosity or wanting to test fate.

He knew he was popular but he didn’t think people would go that far to claim him as their soulmate. Sure there were a few dates and serious relationships that just didn’t work out but the whole ‘saying his Words just to make him feel entitled to a liar’ was a huge blow to Clover’s love life.

It feels cheap and shitty and a mockery to his real soulmate. Whoever that person is, Clover wants to find them because he believes all the waiting will be worth it and they can have a life together. His soulmate is someone out there in the world, waiting or existing or doing whatever mundane thing they can do as monster attack villages.

_You better wish on your lucky stars you’re right_

What will he have to be desperately right about?

Elm tossed him a few ideas, some about debating if hot dogs are sandwiches. Harriet immediately demanded the conversation to end unless they want her to sock them into next week.

Becoming the Captain of the Ace Operatives certainly brought together a team Clover didn’t think he’d be leading.

He’s super happy to have Elm at his side. She’s reliable, stable and a joy and his best friend. Nothing would ever knock her down.

Then there’s Vine, reclusive but not shy. He just likes to speak when he feels it is the right time. Clover pairs him off with Elm immediately to see how they work together. Turns out, they get along rather well as they get closer.

Harriet is like fireworks, loud and big and fast to explode. Getting her to follow his orders was a bit of a challenge for the both of them. Either she gets impatient or he gets too passive for her liking. It takes months for them to settling into some stalemate and agree to keep things professional for the sake of the job.

Marrow is another breath of fresh air, boundless potential and skill and goodness. Clover is so happy to recruit him into the Ops before any other officer could displace the faunus to some job that would do nothing but damper Marrow’s career.

As for the Captain himself, things are going swell.

Clover is an all-around optimistic, hard-working, skillful student with a bonus of good luck. Sure with the name and the clover pin, that can be all what people see from him at a first glance. Impressions like those only make the guy strive for more, to prove that nothing about him is simple chalked up to luck.

The fruits of those labors end up being the trust of one General James Ironwood.

It happened after the Fall of Beacon

General Ironwood arrives to Atlas with a newly steeled and hardened determination in him, just a hair away from something that scares Clover.

He trusts his general, believe him on that but there is just something concerning to see how mere days after his arrival, Ironwood locks himself in his office. Only he or Specialist Schnee are allowed entrance.

His worry overcomes any disciplines when he enters the office to see Ironwood slumped over paper work and a glass of whiskey.

“When’s the last time you checked in with Doctor Grey?”

A ragged noise exhales from the man, his usual towering stature completely gone as he curls over the desk and paperwork, “Too long. She knows I’m avoiding her.”

“With all due respect sir, that’s a death sentence.”

Another heavy sound, an echo of a sharp laugh as Ironwood unfolds himself, pressing his whole back to the chair, “I don’t suppose you’re here to report about yesterday’s Grimm raids.”

“I’m actually here to report about Hill.” Ironwood’s whole body tenses. “No, good news, I promise,” he waits for his general to beckon him over. Clover sets his scroll on the table, displaying the news feed, “She’s running for the council seat.”

It doesn’t change the stiffness in Ironwood, not the reaction Clover was hoping for.

Ironwood sighs, muttering to himself, “She’s better than Jacques at least.”

Without missing a beat, Clover notes, “Sir, _everyone_ is better than him. Captain Grif would be better.”

A real laugh rumbles from the man. He passes a hand through the rough scruff growing at his jaw. Clover has no doubt that a full beard will be in their future if the general stays on this path.

Blue eyes watch the Captain closely as he fixes his posture, “I wouldn’t think you’d be the one to crack jokes with your superiors, Ebi.”

“Only if I like them,” he nods, a slight smile brightening the mood.

That certainly pulls Ironwood out of whatever darkness is inside of his head, his eyes a little softer, “Thank you, I appreciate it.” With that his thinking face is back on, he’s been giving Clover this look often now and apparently now is the time. “Call your team here. I want to tell you all a story.”

Thus the Ace Ops, Winter, and Penny learn a terrifying story of a witch, a wizard, and four relics.

It is a _lot_ to take in.

Winter is the one asking questions, as if prepared for this moment, “Who else knows this?”

“The other two headmasters and two of Ozpin’s companions,” Ironwood answered, “Glynda Goodwitch and Qrow Branwen.”

She spits, “That drunk?”

At the same time Clover blinks, “Of STRQ?”

Of course Clover knows about Vale’s top graduating team, they were amazing in their tournament debut. They were also a bit of a mystery as well since there has been less news about them in the coming years.

Not all huntsman teams have time for the limelight once they do mission after mission. It’s just that news from teams of other kingdoms don’t reach Solitas that much since its civilians prefer to debate about dust or politics.

But Clover remembers the highlight reel from STRQ’s battles, especially Qrow’s skill with that scythe. That man is a thing of beauty.

So it feels a little jarring to learn that his old celebrity crush is in the know of this secret war.

“Qrow is an experienced fighter and has done years of espionage for this very purpose,” Ironwood continues, “He’s the one who had the closet calls against Salem’s main forces and came out on top of it each and every time.”

Clover may be mistaken but it looks like the General is smiling.

“And these people are responsible for Beacon,” Penny said with her voice tense.

No one in this room has an idea on how to comfort the artificial warrior. She just learned her death was orchestrated by an unknown being with unthinkable powers.

He tries though, “Are you alright?”

The young girl blinks robotically, an accurate phrase but there are so much flickering emotions underneath her optics. She admits quietly, “I am not sure.”

Ironwood gains the room’s attention once more, “I know all of this shakes the foundation of our entire world history but I shared this you all because I trust you.” He gives everyone a meaningful look, “Now all I ask of you right now is to trust me on this plan I’m developing.”

Amity Tower project is certainly another thing to add to the long list of secrets.

Processing it all in one night is a major headache for Clover as he thinks of all of it. The satellite has an important purpose. It truly can reunite the world and its communication. On the other hand, Ironwood’s real intentions on revealing Salem are a big turning point.

Still, this is his General, Clover is loyal to him, trusts him with his life.

In the back of his head, a voice tells him to wish on his lucky stars that he’s right.

This small figment of doubt is uncomfortable but not unfamiliar.

Robyn embodied that feeling of seeking out truth not for the sake of doubt but for justice. She continues to do so as Clover, Elm, and Marrow are assigned to check up on her when Atlas elitist gets too prickly at her open speeches. 

“Fish Sticks,” she greets, “you’re not here arrest me for eating one of your kind are you?”

They find the politician and her partner Fiona in the market district where one aisle is dedicated to grill stands and frying stalls.

Robyn continues munching on her fried fish on a sewer as Clover ignores Elm purchasing her own meat stick.

“We’re just here on patrol,” he answered, side glancing at his operative.

“Yep,” Elm nods and licks off the sauce stuck on her fingers.

“Sure you are,” Fiona rolls her eyes, bumping hips with Robyn as the taller woman casually wraps an arm around her, resting a hand on her hip.

This is not a new development but there’s something a tad sweeter in Robyn’s face as she pecks Fiona’s forehead.

Mindlessly, Clover wonders if he’ll get something like this with his soulmate.

“We just wanted to say hi to an old classmate,” he excused.

The Captain does another sweep of the area and near the entrance he spies the rookie operative in a subtle but heated conversation with one of Robyn’s huntresses.

Marrow has been volunteering for more patrols in Mantle ever since encountering May Marigold. Clover can only speculate what’s going on since Marrow once confided to his captain about having two sets of Words. 

“Really?” Robyn held out her hand.

He rolls his eyes, “Really, Robyn.” Clover snapped his fingers, as if remembering at that moment, “Oh wait, I should probably tell you that someone did get arrested for throwing rocks at an airship.”

“I can’t possibly think of why someone would do that,” Fiona’s sighed dripped with sarcasm as her smile was sweet as wine.

“Speaking of airships, Captain,” Elm had her scroll out, titling the screen to Clover.

An emergency alert is sent to the Ace Ops, news about rouge hunters with no authorization or licenses for advance combat weapons. With their political climate Clover would assume it is one of the locals preaching about Robyn but this timed too well with the earlier notification of a stolen airship.

That is definitely a big issue since Atlas announced their embargo. Along with their knowledge of a certain Grimm witch it is better safe than sorry for the special operative team follows this up.

“Duty calls,” Clover salutes to the politician.

“Don’t go overboard Cloves,” she hollers back, only a hint of concern in her tone.

It’s nice to know she still cares for them, in her own little way but there’s nothing to worry about. This is the Ace Ops, they can handle anything, and nothing will catch them off guard.

So imagine their surprise when it is children, not at all dressed for the cold weather, wielding academy grade weaponry and a mystical looking lamp.

Once they’re all on the ground, the apprehended group in bolo cuffs, Clover slowly recognizes them.

Weiss Schnee is an obvious one but Yang Xiao Long’s solo battle at Vytal was the lead up to Penny’s dooming fight. It hurt to see these girls get manipulating into such tragic events, all of it rising to the fight for Beacon.

Speaking of that, the teammates of the late Pyrrha Nikkos has been once a hot gossip since the three of them were mostly unknowns or armatures to the world of professional grade swordsmanship.

There’s another boy with them, smaller than the rest and instead of any extravagant weapon he wields a cane.

Clover has heard the name of Ruby Rose in Penny’s reports from months ago and honestly it was adorable to hear her gush about this red hooded girl as her very first friend. An additional report went in depth for rest of team RWBY, leading to Clover’s knowledge of Blake Belladonna outside of her family of Menagerie’s power.

Somewhere it slips the Captain’s mind to remember the connection between Rose and Xiao Long and their uncle, Qrow Branwen.

What he does want to push out of his mind is the fact that Qrow is currently belly down with his arms cuffed behind and Clover shouldn’t be thinking at how attractive he is when he’s staring straight up at Clover from down there.

Yep, that’s not professional at all.

This is not at all the meeting Clover had in mind when presented with the possibility of meeting Huntsman Branwen. He’d imagine something a little classier in the academy or even dramatic where had to fight side by side in the nick of danger or something simple like accidently bumping into each other in a coffee shop.

Any of those scenarios lack the tension that comes from arresting someone.

The huntsman in question defiantly raises his head up, his red eyes glinting beautifully, “Hey pal, I’m a licensed huntsman. We just helped have everyone?”

If this wasn’t Solitas Clover would agree with him out loud but that doesn’t change how the rules work here. Between protocols and the political tensions, law and order is barely constraining the rising chaos that Clover and the General has been working on.

Mantle just needs to hold out a little longer as construction continues on the Amity Project.

Qrow’s concern for the kids are justified, a few even trembling in their cuffs as they’re herded into a transport.

“This is all a misunderstanding,” the huntsman gets to his feet and Clover has a closer look on the legend.

He looks so tired from everything Clover’s heard about his experience as a spy. That and it also could be jetlagged. None of that exhaustion affects how handsome the man is, his scruffy hair looks so soft.

Recalling the other illegal alert, Clover bluffs, “I take it a stolen airship is also a misunderstanding?”

Qrow takes the bait, guilty in his silence and scowl. His eyes dart over to the kids Vine is leading away.

“Huh, if that’s that,” Clover continues, places a hand at the small of Qrow’s back and is about to escort him too until he practically growls at Clover’s face.

“If you stupid arrest hurts my kids in any way, I swear-“

“They’ll be okay,” he squeezes Qrow’s shoulder, needing to assure him, “I see that they’re young and I promise nothing cruel would be placed on their heads.”

He doesn’t like the idea of arresting good intentioned civilians, children no less but that’s has been a pattern in Mantle. Robyn has putting a lot of her efforts in helping the youth get off the streets but in her recent reports there hasn’t been enough resources sent to Mantle to cover all her bases.

Qrow backs away from him, like nothing the Atlesian says will matter or is the truth. The look of fear and protective anger sent Clover’s way really gets him defensive. He wants to prove to Qrow that everything Clover is saying is worth trusting.

All of those thoughts are on the tip of his tongue until Qrow turns his back on Clover and calls out, “You better wish on your lucky stars you’re right.”

He walks into the transport without another care, doesn’t look back at Clover who is standing shell shocked as the rest of the world turns.

“Captain?” Someone calls but he’s too stuck in his own head with only one voice in mind.

_You better wish on your lucky stars you’re right_

Too many dreams are passing through his head, faceless and touchless needs of a person who could spend a minute or forever in Clover’s arms. It was only an idea, a concept, a possibility of ever hearing those Words and feeling this heavy feeling tugging at his heart and Clover can do nothing against this tsunami of joy and energy swirling through his skin.

All of his hopes and wishes in the physical embodiment of one Qrow Branwen.

Clover found him.

A harsh punch lands on his shoulder, waking Clover from his stupor as he yells, “Oh shit! Shit, oh my god, shit!”

“What is going on?” Vine questions carefully.

“He lost his marbles,” Harriet said in almost a song tone, touched with a dash of horror.

Elm, the one who punched him, punches him again, “Clover, what happened?”

“Elm,” he shakes her shoulders, “ _It_ happened!”

She lights up instantly, “No way, it happened, Clover it happened you found him!”

The three operatives stare at their captain and teammate busy rattling each other’s bones.

“Wait, you found your soulmate,” Marrow said and points at the departing prison transport, “the one you just arrested?”

Clover pauses, “Oh _no_.”

“Oh yes you did,” Harriet chuckled. It progressed into full blown laughter as Clover groans.

“I _arrested_ my _soulmate,_ shit.”

“Very smooth of you sir,” Marrow sticks out his tongue. He barely supports Harriet, still dying of laughter, who keeps leaning onto him.

Vine assures him with the most logical assurance, “Captain, he and the children did commit a crime. You did your job and that was arresting your soulmate.”

“I didn’t know he was my soulmate,” Clover massages his forehead, reliving the past few minutes. Then again, if he didn’t arrest Qrow then he wouldn’t have been prompted to be angry and defensive at Clover. That’s an upside that Clover can be okay with. “I have to make it up to him.”

It’s a little too late now as the streets have cleared and the Ace Ops’ own transport is ready for departure. Thankfully Marrow informed the officers to take Qrow’s group to the headmaster so now all the ops can do is sit in their airship.

“Yes but what if this happens again?” Vine asked as their ship took to the air.

“What do you mean?” Elm countered. She’s been doing that more often, confronting nearly everything Vine says. Something happened between them after their last two person mission a few weeks ago.

Harriet finally has air back in her lungs to remind them, “You heard the Ice Queen’s beef with the guy. He causes trouble everywhere he goes. Who knows, our dear captain may have to arrest him again.”

“And not for the bedroom,” Marrow unnecessarily adds.

“Do you want to repeat that again, Operative Amin?” Clover asks in his commanding officer voice.

“No sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Okay, all kinky jokes aside Clover is determined to not screw this up. He’ll have to make it up to him, Clover promises. He gets that chance a little earlier than expected when Ironwood messages him to meet with him after properly apologizing to Teams RWBY and JNPR. 

As one of their hosts, Clover had walked the Vale students to the official school side of the academy before Penny took the reins with gusto.

Back tracking to the lobby before the headmaster’s office, Clover walks in to see the General hugging Qrow.

Despite of the scenario of seeing someone intimately holding his soulmate, Clover’s not jealousy or envious, not one bit.

He trusts James Ironwood more than just a general or a headmaster. In the years as his Ace Captain, Ironwood slowly warmed up to having the fisherman and his optimistic nature around the office.

Hell, it took a while for Clover to accept the General giving him permission to use his first name. Calling his boss James is just a whole other side of the coin, it really made Clover see pass the white coat and metal to see how human James is.

Still that doesn’t help that Clover, caught off guard at the sheer sight that is James’ vulnerability, accidentally calls out, “General?”

James slowly pulls away from the other man. A fleeting emotion leaves his eyes as he stands straighter, a hand on Qrow’s shoulder, “Good timing Clover.”

“It is?” blinked Qrow.

Clover darts his eyes from his soulmate to his friend, not too sure about their history. He knows they worked together in the field for Ozpin so that must guarantee a solid foundation between them, something importance that Clover will probably never comprehend.

Again there is no major jealousy (maybe a smidge?) in Clover, just mere curiosity. He grew up knowing people can fall in love with someone other than their soulmate, as he mom explained.

While soul bonds are strong, actual years and experience of knowing a person can be just as incredible.

Clover wants to learn more about Qrow, he may now have his soulmate in his life but Clover still has to _find_ him, like in a getting to know him kind of way.

“You asked for me, sir?”

The general nods and introduces, “Qrow, this is Clover Ebi, Captain of the Ace Operatives.”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” Qrow replies with his gravelly voice, “He arrested me.” Clover, reasonably, gulps as Qrow crocks a teasing eyebrow at the general, “Under your orders, Jimmy.”

“Right,” Clover needs to desperately fix this before he becomes too awkward, “I am so sorry about that.”

“Qrow,” James demands but not in his usual harsh tone, “how was I supposed to know it was _you_ that committed a serious felony on my own military?”

“Jimmy, I do that _all_ the time.”

James pinches the bridge of his nose, a characteristic that means he’s really annoyed, “Yes, I realized as I said it out loud.”

Clover struggles not to smile at this. It’s very cute to watch how teasing Qrow is and can get under James’ armor so easily.

This is the Qrow Branwen that wowed a young Clover, this charismatic and dry wit and cheeky smile that fits into this person who just so happens to be a fierce fighter and a loving mentor to eight kids.

Clover can’t wait to get to know his soulmate.

That dazzling smile is aimed at Clover, disarming every little thing from him as Qrow smirks, “See this is the problem with following orders.” He jabs a playful thumb at James, currently rolling his eyes, “Sometimes they _aren’t_ the best or right thing to do.”

“I trust the general with my life,” he said, “but I see your perspective.”

It’s not just Qrow, Robyn used to constantly make jabs at him for staying in the military. Only after a real talk with her about their political opinions did they admit that they missed simply hanging out like when they were just teenagers.

“Whew!” The huntsman sighs dramatically, “For a second, I thought you’d be another Ice Queen.”

“I assure you I’m not as frosty as she.”

“You sure?” He eyes immediately go to Clover’s arms and for a hot second, he thinks Qrow can see pass the red bandana. “I could have sworn I caught you shivering back in Mantle.”

_You better wish on your lucky stars you’re right_

It’s right there on the muscles Clover has worked out for years not to impress people, know that, but because he just likes to stay in shape. But with the way Qrow is appreciating Clover’s assets, well, he’ll admit he has selfish needs.

Too many thoughts are demanding Clover’s focus, like flirting or bantering with Qrow or to simply rip off the bandana and scream out, ‘hey they’re soulmate!’

Instead he _nearly_ chokes on his own spit, very lucky of him.

James saves him the effort of picking up his tongue, “As pleasant as it is to see you two getting along, it’s late. Besides, you both have plenty of time to get to know each other.”

That is exactly what Clover wants, a bit suspicious if James is reading his mind, he prompts, “Sir?”

“I’m assigning you both as partners for future missions.”

“Really?” They both asked in different tones.

Clover suppresses the urge to bounce up and down in front of his soulmate and general. That would be a little overboard.

Nonetheless he grins at Qrow, “In that case, I look forward to being your partner.”

And your soulmate, his heart screams.

Qrow hesitantly turns to James, “Are you sure about this?”

There’s a strong sense of caution radiating from him, no wait, there’s a flash of misery too. Clover can’t understand why.

“Absolutely.”

A defeated type of acceptance sighs out of Qrow, he halfheartedly shrugs, “Alright, I guess we’re partners.”

Clover has never been so happy. Well he would be even more so but the confused frown on his soulmate is really bothering Clover.

Is he doing something wrong?

Or is Qrow still mad about the whole arrest?

What if after everything Clover longed for, wished for, waited for, Clover isn’t enough to deserve his soulmate?

When people see Clover, they don’t believe a high ranking military office succumbs to insecurities. It just gets so exhausting to be believed to be absolutely perfect when Clover knows he’s far from that.

He played the game of life and people think he’s too lucky or cheating and no amount of battle experience or pains or nightmares will add into his favor. Now he found his soulmate and Clover wants nothing but to just say it out loud but the fear of what if lingers in his head.

It’s not that Clover is scared of revealing they’re soulmates, it’s just that he doesn’t want to mess this up or scare Qrow off. Or maybe Clover is also scared too. He doesn’t quite know how to describe it yet.

This is all too new and too fast to process in one night, especially with the embarrassment of arresting Qrow and then suddenly having him as a mission partner.

The days leading up to their first field mission are still not enough time for Clover to mentally prepare himself.

They all meet at the airship docks for departure where all of the kids are vibrating with a new energy.

Everything they’re doing is new, a mission with an expert team and they get the chance to try out new equipment in the field. Clover remembers that excitement, that endless surge of adrenaline combined with nervous jitters.

After years of experience, Clover has a better handle on his composure as a trained soldier, ready for surprises and such.

Then he sees Qrow in his new outfit and Clover almost walks into Marrow.

The grinning operative takes one look at Clover’s blushing face asks, “Do you think you can handle being in ship alone with him, Captain?”

“Yes I can. Also Marrow, one last thing,” he gives the rookie a stern look, “if you make one more comment, there will be a lot of paper work in your future.”

“You wound me sir.”

“Get to your Manta, Operative.”

“Yes Captain.”

Right as Marrow walks off, Clover’s soulmate approaches, “Man, I can’t remember the last time I was in a Manta,” he shrugs, “like legally.”

That is mildly concerning but also kind of hot. Combine that with how the wind brushes Qrow’s hair and most of the weariness is slept off, Qrow walks with a new confidence.

Qrow narrows his eyes at him, “What are you staring at?”

“Appreciating the view,” he winked.

Oh gods why can’t Clover just be chill for one second, please.

The mission starts as well as it can be, a little tense or wary for the Grimm target as they travel down the abandoned mines.

Clover makes small talk with Qrow, probing for some lore of the great team STRQ. James never implied if the other three teammates were in Ozpin’s circle and Qrow doesn’t mention anything either. Instead he trails off about his isolation, a feat that must be heavy after growing up with such a close team that equaled to a family status.

It’s with a heavy heart as Clover imagines how his soulmate must have felt all of these years. It sounded lonely but Qrow eventually ended up with eight kids so that kind of shift in his life is a big one. Add in the fact that they’re soulmates and Qrow’s life will literally be a rollercoaster.

Clover only hopes that it’ll be a good change in Qrow’s perspective, he has to make sure of it. But first let’s see how they handle this mission together.

The Geist is found in their path, wrenching the small area to the point where Clover would’ve been crushed unless Qrow didn’t yell at him to stop.

“Thanks for the callout,” he said, kicking some rubble down the hole their target escaped through, “That could’ve been bad.”

“I wouldn’t thank me.” There’s a haunting in his deep voice, laced with resentment and shame, “My semblance brings misfortune. I can’t control it.”

He had that same troubled and miserable face Clover once wore years ago, back when he couldn’t figure out his semblance. It became an identity Clover didn’t want, moniker glued to his forehead because that is what people wanted from him.

Elm was one of the first people who didn’t give a damn about luck. She was blunt in the nicest way possible while and trained with him to make sure he knew that luck didn’t equal his worth.

“That so?” Clover took reference to the advice Elm once gave him, “Well hey, don’t beat yourself up about it.” With a cast of his hook, he threw a supporting beam down to create a new tunnel way.

Qrow is watching him carefully and for that Clover does his best smile, “My semblance is good fortune.” Because Clover is a weak man, he winks, “Lucky you, huh?”

The huntsman just stares, unblinking. Not the reaction Clover was expecting.

A beep from team Charlie forces Clover to walk ahead, missing the utter chaos inside of Qrow.

Meanwhile in his own head, Clover admits that maybe his phrasing could’ve been better. After all, bad luck has a different result than good luck.

Whatever Qrow’s upbringing is, something of a twisted light compared to Clover’s, is the reason there is a weight of self-accountability is on his shoulders.

That’s not good, soulmate or not, no one should blame their selves for each disaster or accident.

Clover notices how much distance Qrow is putting between them, a glazed look in his red eyes.

“Is there a reason you’re so far away from me?”

Qrow snaps out of his thoughts, almost like a flinch and that sight makes Clover’s heart ache.

“I uh, I just don’t want my semblance to…” He trails off, his mind a million miles away, “To interfere with the mission.”

“I highly doubt that,” he assures immediately.

“It already _has_ ,” Qrow seethes, grinding his teeth, “you almost got hurt.”

It hits Clover like a bullet. While he has his own fears and self-consciousness Qrow has his own dark clouds. Misfortune and bad luck must have been his identity, either self-proclaimed or given by others.

From the way self-loathing just waves off of Qrow, Clover decides to forget the pressures or expectations of them being soulmates.

Qrow feels alone in this and he needs to know that he’s not, he has eight kids and now he needs to know that he has Clover.

He can confess about them being soulmates another time when they both have a better headspace. Pushing Qrow too early in their partnership is probably not a good idea. They still need to get familiar with each other first.

An alert pulls them out of the tense air, the target is attacking.

The duo makes it to the heart of the dust mine where teams Charlie and Bravo are as the Ace Ops are engaging in battle. It’s little chaotic than usual as dust shards are being flung around.

Clover catches a stray one, “What will you do without me?”

In a totally professional manner, Clover tosses the dust to Qrow and dives off their platform with a salute.

Yeah he’s showing off, can he be blamed?

Everything goes smoothly as Harriet sucker punches the Geist. It gets even better when he sees Ruby out speed the speedster to catch the last dust shard. Now that is impressive.

“Lucky catch,” Qrow nods at him, his cape fluttering from the drop.

“No, I chalk that up to talent.”

He’s so used to hearing people dismiss his or his team’s success to luck that Clover almost automatically corrects them. Yet with Qrow, he knows it’s just banter, that it is not a real criticism or devaluation.

It’s just Clover and Qrow and their shared association with luck.

Clover has never felt so relaxed when joking about it.

The luck puns and such were just a habit Clover picked up, do the joke before someone meaner or ignorant says it first.

As sad as that sounds, Clover had Elm to cheer him back up. And look at her now, lifting Ruby on her shoulders like she used to do to Clover.

Well no, she still does that to this day, saying that he only weights like grapes.

It’s a compliment really, people like grapes.

(Don’t say the thing about dogs not liking grapes, only Marrow’s allowed to say that)

With a mission accomplished, they all excite the mine, striding confidently to the afternoon sun.

Speaking of sunniness, the knight, Jaune Arc has wide eyed and gushing over the Ace Ops. It’s like another Marrow is here. As everyone kind of walks in their own group, Clover heads to the General.

In the corner of his eyes, he notices that Jaune had dragged Marrow to a reclusive spot considering the site is beginning to be swarmed by military officers. He has half the mind to be concerned for the operative but his tail is wagging way too much to display any unease.

Clover marches over to the General and the head engineer of the Amity Project.

“Are you sure the limited resources won’t be an issue?” Ironwood presses. He’s been less paranoid and more worried since deciding to split supply resources between Mantle and the world saving project.

Whatever the Vale kids said to the General really changed his tune. Clover didn’t vocally approve of the plans neglecting Mantel, believing in James’ resolve about putting everything into the satellite, but now he feels pretty relieved.

Robyn and the rest of the civilians would be happy about their barriers finally getting reinforced.

“Si,” nodded Head Engineer Lopez, his tone can be labeled as robotic but right now it is bored as he checks a scroll of his supplies.

James opens his mouth to double check but shuts it promptly when Lopez tilts his brown helmet in a disapproving and annoyed manner.

The general bristle at that, standing a little straighter, “Good, I’ll leave everything to you and Doctor Grey.”

The engineer salutes and marches off.

Approaching, Clover stands with his hands folded behind his back, “Everything is a success sir, Lopez and Grey have the sharpest minds.”

“Agreed,” General Ironwood this eyes trailed up to stare at the to-be satellite. It’s only muted hope in him, more nerves than actual belief, never a good look on the exhausted man.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

He raises a brow at that, “Go ahead.”

“You’d put Grey on the project to avoid her, didn’t you.”

A twitch under that bread of his is the only indication that the general smiled. “Am I that obvious?”

“Using work as an excuse or distraction is a preferred tactic of yours.”

“I wasn’t aware you took notice of that, Captain.”

“I served you for years,” Clover nodded his head in Qrow’s direction, “I’m willing to bet he’s going to figure that out in a matter of days.”

Fondness softens the tension in James’ shoulders, “He already has by now.” His shoulders sink a little lower, “How is he?”

“Based off first impressions and one mission?” Clover mulls over a summery, “Qrow has been through a lot, either alone or taking responsibility over the others.” Darken eyes and bad luck flashes through his head. “I think partnering with him will be good for the both of us.”

Newfound alertness makes the general stiffen, “That so?”

Caught in that personal implication, Clover swallows up his nerves, “Just a thought, sir, the Ace Ops are an odd number.”

James eyes him carefully, “I did give you permission to speak freely Clover.”

True, Clover set himself up in this, and now to actually say it out loud, “I think we have things in common, more than I realized.”

For all the lucky comments and nicknames, it cuts a little deeper when people learned his parents aren’t soulmates and by that extension, people assumed that Clover is lucky to be born under such pretenses.

It’s an outdated and hypocritical way of thinking.

Not all soulmates get together, in the coming years it is less of a tradition to wait for a soulmate to find love and start a family. Yet that didn’t stop those people from talking and judging.

It certainly didn’t help that his father’s blueblood family disapproved of him marrying a Mantle girl who’s never said his Words.

Gods it was so awkward to meet his cousins in the academy. Clover’s so happy that Elm and Robyn were with him.

A cold hand is on his shoulder, it’s a gentle weight and temperature eases the old memories out of Clover’s head. It’s rare for James to show physical affection, especially outside of his office.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he takes a breath, “just got lost for a bit.” Once the hand is off of him, Clover stands back into attention, subtly asking for a change in subject, “Is there anything else sir?”

James gives him a slight frown before returning to his generalness. He reports about a series of murders, active supporters of Robyn Hill. The people are reasonably in dismay and are not happy that only now is the military starting to help them, right when the damage has already been dealt.

No one likes the news of this and Clover almost wants to disagree with the General when he calls over Jaune and Ruby to tell them as well.

They’re so young, he proclaims, they haven’t even gotten their license and that’s planned for later in the day.

It’s a bit of a shame that Clover couldn’t attend the small graduation, already sent to Mantle with orders to speak with Robyn. Harriet joins him because she doesn’t want to deal with cake fueled graduates.

The Happy Huntress’ home base isn’t really a base. It’s a night club whose owner happens to be a friend.

Blood Gulch isn’t the most popular club but it must get by if the old building is still standing. Dark walls and metallic structure gives off old military base vibes, likely the intention to mock Atlas as there a bright neon name sign is plastered on top.

They knock at the door and a busty, dark skinned woman with curly yellow hair huffs at them like they’re the health inspector, “You’re cops right? You gotta tell me if you are! That’s like a law or something!”

“We are literally wearing our uniforms,” Harriet states dully.

“Yeah and I think you’d both be hotter if you took it off,” she winks.

From inside the club, someone shouts out, “Bow chicka bow wow!”

“Tucker?” Clover splutters while Harriet hisses the name, “Tucker!”

“Okay Kai, just let them in,” Robyn’s sigh is heard.

Kai rolls her eyes but complies. Not wanting to get between cops and hunters (she’d prefer that situation in the bedroom, she winks), the owner tends to her bar.

The interior of the club is themed in typical sleek black bar tops and a large dance floor with electronic panels. It’s not often Clover goes to a club in their off hours as regular lights are on and not the usual raving colors.

Over at a table in the corner are the Happy Huntresses and an Atlas captain assigned to training cadets and lieutenants.

“Hey Ebi,” Tucker waves, his greeting hand accidentally showing off his cards, and shoots a wink at Harriet, “Hello Bree.”

“Speak to me again and your kid will be missing a father.”

“You would do that to poor innocent Junior?” Fiona gasp, a mouth covering her mouth.

Leaning on the wall, May shrugs, “Eh, I think the kid would be just fine.”

“Hey!” The father whines.

“Enough,” Robyn calls, setting down her cards. She glares at Clover, “If you’re the barer of bad news then you’re too late.”

The two operative glanced at Tucker, shuffling his cards. “Another murder,” his tone serious and stern for once, “I used to take Junior sightseeing in town. I can’t do that anymore.”

“So imagine how the rest of us feel,” May snaps, her eyes dart to Clover, “We’re safe from the Grimm but that’s not enough isn’t it?”

“The General has initiated more supply carriers and maintenance upgrades,” Harriet reported, “It’ll just need some time to get it all done.”

“And we will do everything in our power to catch the person responsible for all of these deaths,” finished Clover.

Robyn stands up, her hands flat on the table but everything in her posture screams anger, “Why now? Why did it take so many deaths to finally change things?”

Frowning, the Ace Captain can’t think of a way to respond to that. Maybe no real answer can justify the damage done. “I’m sorry it took this long to get Mantle the help it needs but things will change now.”

“And what makes you so sure?” The politician demands, “Ironwood may have a sudden change of heart but what does that make you? You defended him with he didn’t help Mantle before.” His former classmate regards him with a look a betrayal, “You just followed your orders, didn’t you.”

Harriet buts in curtly, “Hey we’re not some mindless drones.”

“Wanna bet?” Joanna smirked, her tall stature grandeur compared to the speedster even if she’s sitting down.

“Yeah, I wanna bet,” Harriet laughs hotly.

He quickly grabs his operative’s shoulder and warns, “Don’t.”

She huffs quietly, a tad ruefully as she takes a step back.

Returning his attention to Robyn, Clover says, “You have your reasons to distrust the General and I have my own to do the opposite.” Qrow’s snarky comments echo as he quotes, “But yes, sometimes his orders _aren’t_ the best or right thing to do.”

That makes everyone in the room stare at him with wide eyes. At the bar, Kai fumbles with a glass she was whipping.

“Whoa,” Tucker awed and blinked owlishly, “Did you get laid by a rebel?”

“Is everything about sex with you?” Harriet complains.

“I’m a one trick pony and I won’t mind people riding me.”

“By the Brothers why are you even here?”

“It’s Uno night,” he gestured to the color cards, “Wash is away and so is my impulse control.”

It’s true. Captain Tucker is better behaved when Agent Washington is around. He and Agent Carolina are the only ones capable of getting their Reds and Blues in line.

“Yeah, I’m with Tucker,” Robyn agrees. She walks over to personally inspect Clover, her arms crossed and her eyes sharp, “Something’s different about you, Fish Sticks.”

Feeling a bit apprehensive of all the staring, Clover shrugged awkwardly, “It can’t be so hard to think I can think of my own and disagree with the General.”

So maybe it took listening to Qrow to even dare doubt James, Clover will admit that but that’s how conversation works. People can change other people.

“Wait,” Harriet’s voice was strained with dread, “You didn’t actually bone Branwen this fast right?”

 _“Harriet!”_ His voice nearly shrilled.

“Oh my gods you did.”

“I absolutely did not! We just met and we _literally_ came from a mission.”

“You mean you haven’t had sex during a mission?” Tucker provoked with a smirk.

Robyn nods, “We all have done that at least once.”

The other huntresses nodded. From the behind the bar, the establishment’s owner asks to be invited.

“So,” Robyn begins teasingly, “Who is this Branwen?”

He absolutely has to be careful with his words, beginning with, “One of the Vale hunters who’ve come to help.”

“Didn’t we close our boarders?” May points out.

Not liking the calculating look from Robyn, Clover complies, “This was an exception.” He doesn’t elaborate on that no matter how hard she stares him down.

While her hands and semblance is a weapon, Robyn’s eyes are just as deadly. It was only after graduation did Clover find himself hurt by them.

“We’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t we Captain?”

That’s the best response he can get, better than the heated arguments the two would find their selves in when they were younger and dumber and pained to be against each other.

Time didn’t exactly heal their wounds, just gave them space to know that despite their conflicting views, they still look out for each other. Either though game nights like these or warning the other about it being kids pranking the supply trunks, don’t go after them or the route of robotic knights are taking is not passing this building known for hiding people breaking curfew.

He and Robyn used to train together, practice their individual styles. Now Clover dreads the day he’d given the orders to detain Robyn and her Huntresses.

Would he be able to do that?

Clover already unknowingly arrested his soulmate, how much more will he mess up the people he wants to be close to?

No he shouldn’t fall into those thoughts, they never did him any favors before and it won’t now.

It’s best to keep moving forward.


	2. don't waste the suffering you've faced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today's title is from Porter Robinson's Get Your Wish
> 
> we don't have clover's backstory so its up to the rest of us to go batshit crazy to write one up. like we known qrow for volumes so we all have a basic understanding to his character and developent so writing from his perspective is familiar and known. for clover, well, i just went with what made sense, the perfectionist part, his VA thought clover would've known others with similar hardships to qrow, and for whatever reason (that WASNT REALLY CLEAR IN CANON) clover trusts james with his life
> 
> hence why i crave the need to understand and write their loyalties to each other
> 
> anyway, i reference some rather important scenes in Etched Soul's chapter five so *cough* this is where canon starts to diverge by a LOT

Only a week in and having the new hunters with the Ace Ops feels almost natural, like for the kids it is the start of their professional careers but for the Atlas graduates, it feels like they’re back in their academy days.

Since becoming a special ops team, they don’t have the luxury of hanging out with other teams. They barely see the Reds and Blues since they focus on faraway missions or teaching roles.

The Ace Ops are the best team of Atlas and they have to keep doing everything they can to ensure it. That means minimum down time, no extended vacations, immediate interruptions on their breaks, and most importantly daily training.

Learning about the kids through their fighting styles is a good bonding exercise because while the Ops say they have different expertise, these Vale hunters are on a whole other level of combat.

Blades and guns and shields and gauntlets really highlight their individual skills. Although, Clover has to point the odd one out is the cane.

Oscar Pine isn’t a part of the graduating class because he didn’t even enroll into a combat school. He’s here because there’s an ancient soul lurking in his head. Well no, no one should brush away Oscar’s own reason for staying.

Clover’s with Winter when she voiced at how young Oscar is, far too young to deal with the responsibilities of an old man with no real plan to save the world.

That particular news wasn’t reassuring since it was James whose faith was shaken.

Clover puts his trust into the General but that didn’t mean he knew how to comfort James. It was always James who spoke fondly or tensely about Ozpin, how the headmaster guided the specialist into the truth of the world.

To find out there was no plan at all must have been devastating. Clover can only speak for himself about the detached feelings he has for the name that is Ozpin. What he can say is how relieved he is that Qrow is here to talk with James.

Ever since he saw the two of them hug, it was obvious how important they regard the other.

A touch of envy dwells in Clover, wanting Qrow to think the same for him.

Maybe that moment will come. Clover will just have to be patient.

Then again, a sweating and panting and adrenaline pumped Qrow is really testing his resolve as they finish up their sparring match.

It’s just the two of them in the training room today, still learning each other’s movement. The huntsman relies more on agility but is tactile in both short range and long range fighting. Really, his punches pack a lot.

And those legs, lean and strong with captivating hips that Clover could just admire for hours and…

Okay he should stop right now.

“Are you getting tired, Lucky Charm?”

The huntsman is currently in lead when comparing their aura levels. His scythe is held in one hand, shifted into a tonfa mode where the handle is short but the blade curls out.

Clover gets to his feet as apparently he spent a few seconds too long knocked onto his ass and staring dizzily at his soulmate.

Damn, this is his soulmate, this powerful and graceful and utterly snarky and quick witted man.

The Atleasian is half tempted just untie the bandana covering his Words.

_You better wish on your lucky stars you’re right_

“I’m alright,” Clover said, rotating his arms to test its soreness. Nothing but the usual training pains as his own adrenaline is flowing through him, “Don’t count me out just yet.”

Their match continues with more close combats. Kingfisher is a narrow weapon, more for quick jabs at critical areas so Clover needs a strong grip as he counters the wide blade of Harbinger. What does work in Clover’s favor is casting the line out to start twirling it around Qrow.

It’s a bit like ribbon dancing, something he learned for this type of weapon.

Qrow gets tangled up but his left arm is free to elbow Clover’s gut. With him pushed back, Qrow attempts to jump away, taking the line of Kingfisher with him.

This tug of war is short lived as Clover easily pulls Qrow back into his arms, disarming the scythe out and successfully pinning Qrow’s arms with the fishing line.

Yet with his knees unbound, Qrow kicks up knocking against Clover’s jaw. The strength of it has Clover stumbling backwards until he trips over the fallen scythe.

Since Clover still had the line in his grasp, which sends both men down.

Qrow wiggles and squirms on top of Clover’s torso, “I clearly didn’t think this through.”

“No, you did great,” he assures as if this isn’t the third time Qrow knocked him down.

He rolls his eyes, still struggling with his bound arms as he tumbles off of Clover and face plants on the floor, “Yep, totally.”

“Here, let me,” Clover reaches out but Qrow rolls again to properly sit up. From there Clover unwinds the fishing line, “You did a lot of damage near the end.”

Shrugging, either for the compliment or for his newly freed arms, Qrow mutters, “Well yeah, you don’t have much of a defense or guard up close.”

True, Clover goes more for mid or long range fights but he shakes his head, “That just means you’re smart to spot that.”

Qrow’s face does an uncomfortable twitch, a frown stuck on his plush lips, “Is this a battle review?”

He blinks, “I’m complimenting you.”

“Oh.” Qrow drawls, “Uh, _oh._ ”

He blinks again, choosing to stare at anything but Clover. That doesn’t sit quite right, yes Qrow looks cute but the hesitance and doubt on him is concerning.

“Qrow,” he says, attempting to recover the conversation, “You fighting style is amazing, most unique I’ve ever seen with a lot of skill.”

“I’m mostly surprised nothing unlucky happened.” A bitter laugh escapes him, “Hah, I guess Jimmy was right to pair us up. I might not be a total liability.”

Clover does nothing but stare in horror at how Qrow chuckles at this, as if he genuinely views his luck as dominate and deciding factor of his character.

Just no, Clover can’t stand for this.

“Before I unlocked my semblance my parents used to do family fishing trips.” Qrow sends him a questioning glance at the sudden story but doesn’t interrupt. “It goes as well as any regular trip where we played games and catch a bunch of fish. It went a lot different after I unlocked my semblance.”

“Let me guess,” Qrow rolls his eyes, casually sitting on one of the cubes terraformed into the training floor, “You got the luckiest catches.”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a sigh, taking a spot next to his partner, “but then one time I got sick and couldn’t go with them. Apparently Dad accidentally knocked their scrolls into the ocean and their radio and engine were fried from a loose wire or something. They spent hours trying to sail without any wind to get back to the harbor and I was a mess of worry.

“I blamed myself for their misfortune, that I should’ve been with them despite puking that morning,” Clover frowned at the memories of that day. “I believed that other people needed my good luck more than anything else I could provide, that my semblance is what really matters in the end but that’s utter bullshit.”

There’s a surprised cough from Qrow, “Whoa, I should’ve known you cursed like a sailor.” Despite the joke, there’s an understanding gleam in his red eyes. “So bullshit you say?”

He nods, “Yeah, I pushed my luck trying to control it, make it work constantly but it just drained me. My Mom sat me down to get me to stop and she was right. I may have good luck but that doesn’t means every good or bad thing that happens is my responsibility.” Clover rests a hand on Qrow, “Nor is it your fault.”

Qrow’s whole body loses its tension, staring into teal eyes pleading for him to listen and accept his words. Clover can only hope that he’ll start to believe that his darkness is not as strong as he thinks.

He wishes to his lucky stars that Qrow will know that he’s right about this.

But he won’t get an answer any time soon as the room’s doors slide open.

Winter enters the training field, “Captain, we’re needed for an emergency meeting.”

Those surprise meetings are all from the Amity Project. Lopez has been conducting his own methods to make up for the lack of resources. There is a lot of science involved that Clover chooses not to dive into. The Specialists only join just to make sure none of the trials are too dangerous.

“Of course,” Clover stands up, offering a hand to Qrow.

His eyes flicker with some emotions before accepting it.

Winter wrinkles her nose at them, sweat still clinging to him but it’s not the first time she has to pluck Clover out of his training for a meeting. Yet her gaze on Qrow is a tad sharper, not cold as her usual demeanor but something is making her track her eyes on the huntsman.

“What?” Qrow raises a brow with a teasing smile, “Are you going to push me into the showers yourself?”

Clover uses all of his willpower to not picture _him_ doing just that to Qrow.

The Specialist is fuming silently, her hand itching to her sword. She stomps down the emotions as she attempts for a casual tone, “I heard you stopped drinking. I needed to hear that for myself.”

A new tension rolls across Qrow’s shoulders as he looks away, “Yep, of course you wouldn’t believe that.”

Instantly, without thinking, Clover reaches a hand on Qrow’s arm, rubbing small circles for comfort that at least has Qrow relaxing a little.

Clover only knows about Qrow’s sobriety because the withdrawals hit him right before their first training session. It was kind of messy to be honest but Clover stuck to Qrow’s side, making sure there was no shame or humiliation lurking on him.

He told Qrow that every breath he’s taking is a proof of his strength and bravery. Clover would know, his cousin, the same one who once resented him, hit a low point in their academy days. Dad’s side of the family was never the best people. Clover made sure to tell his cousin that they, not a he or a she they revealed, was welcome with the Ebi household, a simple Mantle name of a fisherwoman.

“So it’s true?” Winter asks, still adamant for the confirmation.

“Yep.”

“And are you feeling alright?”

“Look you don’t have to worry about me, Jimmy set me up with all the medical stuff and I’m um, honestly I do feel better,” he admits and scratches the back of his neck.

Winter nods and turns on her heel, walking to the meeting rooms, “Good.”

Qrow nearly trips as he jogs over to her, “Oh my god, you were really worrying about me.”

“I did not say that.”

“Clover, look,” he grins and points at Winter, “I got through her wall of ice.”

“You absolutely did not.”

Clover strides up to her side, “Hmm, the temperature is slightly warmer than usual.”

“Captain, I advise you to stop right now.”

“Yes, Commander Schnee.”

“Boo, no fun!”

Fun is apparently a priority for the Vale hunters.

In the passing days there have been more missions around Mantle rather than the Amity site. The kids jump aboard for the Grimm hunts but Clover reminds them that their growing public image is nothing to scoff at either.

Mantle quickly settled their eyes on the kids because they’re new and interesting and actually helping the community. They did barrier patrols, supply runs, help the soup kitchens, and a few volunteering at the schools and orphanages.

It’s a lot more than the Atlas military has done in years.

Huh, now that’s a revelation that makes Clover rethink things.

He won’t sugarcoat the inefficacy of the military. Robyn says it best concerning the citizen’s lack of resources and safety within the walls. Yet Clover and majority of their graduating class still enlisted.

For Elm, she joined because she believed this was the best way to help the greater good. Back then, the only enemy was the Grimm. Of course there was the human affair and crimes, something Elm was really passionate about too. She was loyal to General Ironwood the moment he directed a successful raid upon a drug trafficking gang.

Elm desired to be a part of the investigation but it hurt too close to home for her. She told Clover that she didn’t trust herself if she ever saw her sister again.

Branching paths on different sides of the law, she joked scornfully. Those two sisters certainly had conflicting views on loyalty. It was for the best that she asked Vine to take her place, she trusted him to bring her wayward sister to justice.

That is one of the more personally reasons people join the military. Others have a bit more of flair.

Only rumors discuss the reason why the elite teams of the Reds and Blues joined the Atlas military.

So far there are fifty-seven theories, ranging from war vets not ready to retire to having a secret agenda with the General.

That last one is probably not far off as James planned on bringing Agent Carolina into his inner circle when she and her team return to Atlas.

It feels a bit jarring to know that Clover knows something as important as the Salem wars before the scariest agent to ever walk Solitas.

Yet it’s no surprise that Clover has become General Ironwood’s left hand man. Winter holds the positon of right hand but that too isn’t a surprise.

Clover had the opportunity to learn from James back when they were student and headmaster. He shook off the snide remarks of his luck to believe James’ honestly that he sees a great potential in Clover.

From that day onward, Clover gave James his complete trust.

It wasn’t blind, far from it. Fear and doubt had Clover thinking that Ironwood was just like any other upper crust elite seeing only the lucky semblance. But those thoughts were thoroughly crushed as the real James was revealed underneath that steely glamour.

He gotten to know the James that fumbles with his own speeches, overanalyzes every strategy meeting, gives Winter an excuse from any interaction with her father, and has a fondness of the birds flying past his office windows.

Clover knows love and anguish when he sees it.

The extent of it, he doesn’t know. It’s not his place to demand answers and yet he feels like James has already given it.

James set him up as Qrow’s partner. There is always something in his eyes when they enter a room, his eyes first following Qrow and then to Clover. His face is carefully composed but his blue eyes are soft and accepting.

Clover doesn’t have the guts to ask James’ intention if he’s readying this right because as much as the Ace Captain cares for his General, James won’t open up to Clover.

The tinman only truly opens up to the scarecrow.

The lucky fisherman can at least understand that. He doesn’t want to intrude on their matter so the best he can do is support Qrow whenever he walks over to the General and calls him Jimmy.

It’s Qrow’s choice entirely. Clover won’t interfere no matter how much he wants Qrow.

While he promises he won’t interfere, that does not discourage Clover from making a move. 

Clover invites Qrow out for lunches or card games. He didn’t really use the word “date” when asking. He had hoped his intentions would be evident. More than that, it was pleasant to actually talk to Qrow, to learn about his own Beacon days with Team STRQ. Little snippets of fights or of shenanigans they pulled, it was really nice to see Qrow smile.

Then one day Tucker, Robyn, and Fiona meet Qrow. Wow what a not-date that was.

After which, Clover really thought he and Qrow shared a moment, recognizing how much both Mantle and its people have changed ever since Qrow and the kids arrived.

He tells him just so as they take a walk down the streets of Mantle, “Having you as a partner is better than I could ever imagine. You’re smart and witty but you also willing to question orders and suggest better solutions. Most importantly,” he smiles with complete ease and relief at Qrow, “I don’t have to be the golden boy when I’m with you.”

That title carries more than just a reputation. It carries expectations to be utterly perfect and all of that weights on his shoulders. Clover can really be his dorky, pun making self with only a few people in his life. He wants Qrow to know exactly how much Clover wants him here.

Qrow blinks at the vulnerability words, backtracking as if to asset damage, “If you hate the nickname I can stop, Lucky Charm.”

“It’s fine,” Clover assured and placed a hand on Qrow’s left arm, his thumb rubbing circles in his cold skin, “I had that all those nicknames for a long time, I don’t mind when you use them.” Feeling confident, he winks, “Although, I think it is only fair if I get to call you cute nicknames too.”

Qrow’s cheeks go pleasingly red, “I should let you know that I’m real tired of being Birdie or Pretty Bird.”

“But you are a pretty bird,” Clover can’t help but say. He glides a hand up to hold the blushing apple of Qrow’s cheeks, tracing small shapeless motions to just feel him.

Qrow trembles just a little and Clover just knows it’s not fear or if he’s pushing this way too far. It’s only his fingers barely pressing against Qrow’s skin but it sends lightning down Clover’s spine. He devours the gentle sensations as if he’s starving.

This is his soulmate. He’ll cherish every bit of him.

They’re so close to each other. He’s holding one of the most important people in his life.

Gods he wants to kiss him.

Then suddenly, his soulmate blurts out, “Featherbrain.”

Very surprised and caught in a laugh, Clover cracked a smile, “What?”

“It’s an old nickname,” Qrow tells, a little embarrassed, “My leader used to call me that.”

His fingers wander over to the huntsman’s smooth jawline then to an ear. The breath of Qrow burns at Clover’s wrist, breaking at his will power to just admit that they are soulmates.

“Cute nickname,” he complimented, “You okay if I end up using that?”

“As okay as I’ll ever be,” Qrow said with a shy smile on his lips.

He’s so beautiful and peaceful that Clover doesn’t want break this moment. He gets that maybe he’ll never understand the depths of Qrow Branwen, that there are shadows or scars that may haunt the world but to the gods above, Clover promises to love every part of Qrow.

This man is so beloved by those eight kids who just shine a new kind of light on him. And just as natural, Qrow waltz his way into James’s and Winter’s exteriors, making his stance known that he genuinely cares about them.

Clover wants to make sure that Qrow knows how much everyone loves him. Soulmates or not, Clover is a part of all of that.

Yet tonight, Qrow choose his kids over Clover.

It’s only fair. Clover has been taking up all of Qrow’s free time as of late. Thank Elm for that, reconciling the kids from bargaining Qrow away from him but things are more relaxed between them in the passing days.

The nieces were immediate on ‘interrogating’ Clover.

Ruby was drinking from a flask to really add into the dramatics (it was strawberry milk she had boasted) while Yang kept snapping her shades at him, letting the bullet revolvers in her wrist whirl around.

That had to be the most interesting shovel talk Clover ever had to face. Qrow is worth all of their teasing and wiggling eyebrows and vague threats of violence and actual threats of violence with the daunting notion that they probably could hide his body and get away.

Yeah, Clover was really nervous whenever the girls were on his mission roster.

But tonight is different as General Ironwood gave them the younger teams the night off. As for the Ace Ops, Elm and Vine already made dinner plans and Harriet clocked out without another word.

Marrow and Penny volunteered to do security at Robyn’s watch party. Precaution measures they said. Clover wished them luck as he return to his room with the intention of doing paper before it swarms his desk.

Once that’s done, Clover plans on catching a transport to the party, no not because he knows Qrow’s there with his kids but because he wants to congratulate Robyn in person when she wins.

The clock is ticking down as the election poll results are displayed on nearly every screen in the academy’s long hallways.

Maybe he’ll be a little late but that won’t be a big deal, he thinks as he rounds the corner.

That is where Clover finds James standing alone, staring out of the glass windows that overlooks the nightlife of Atlas. His posture is weary, sagged yet tense with shifting weight as he presses his left hand over the right of his ribcage.

His footsteps already alerted the General. He pulls hand away, apprehension sky rocking in him as he glances Clover’s way. The Captain nods as politely as possible, a sort of apology for interrupting his thoughts.

“Clover,” James greeted, his alertness turning into curiosity, “I thought I gave you the night off too.”

Approaching, Clover smiles, “You did, I’m just heading out right now. Finished on some papers, I assume you did the same?”

James closes his eyes, his lips in a thin frown, “Not entirely. I couldn’t focus on it, not tonight.”

He nods again, “The election results are on their way, we’ll know soon enough who will sit next to you in the council.”

A heavy sigh leave the other man, “Honestly, that’s the last thing on my mind.” James pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m either going to drink all my whiskey or dump it all down the drain.”

“Sir?” Clover nearly shouts, instantly shocked and worried. He takes a step closer and sees how the reflecting lights of the city only make James’ grey hairs shine.

“Please, don’t Sir me right now,” James pleas with tired eyes, “I’m far from being the general of anything.”

Clover places a hand on the metal arm, asking gently, “James, are you okay?”

The answer is no. Okay is not the sight of a man so strong becoming so exhausted and frustrated with an overload of paranoia and expectations and the literal weight of everyone watching his move as he tries his best to save the world from a nightmare.

“I’ll be fine,” James says, thinking about a future where he’s more stable than this moment right now. His blue eyes trace from the hand on his arm to Clover, still concerned. “I had a talk with Qrow.”

Clover tilts his head, curious and concerned. He waits for James, the blue of his eyes flickering with emotions.

Finally James stops this thoughts, meeting Clover’s teal eyes, “You care for him right?”

“Yes, I do,” he promises with his soul.

James turn away from him, Clover’s hand falling back down, and the general returns his attention to the cities below. “You won’t be the first or last person to love him.”

Clover is aware of that.

Soulmates doesn’t guaranteed true love. Clover always told himself this, believing and supports other couples who didn’t choose their soulmate or hasn’t found their mate.

So why did Clover not pursue his past relationships?

His past boyfriends had their fair place in Clover’s heart, whether it ended rough or peaceful, but waiting for his Words and then finding his Soulmate is something that Clover believed he’d get the chance to experience.

And now he does, he sees Qrow every day and still he has no clue if he said Qrow’s Words yesterday or will tomorrow and it’s a fear and a thrill and also something he can only get with Qrow.

_You better wish on your lucky stars you’re right_

Clover wants to tell Qrow but just as James said, he won’t be the first or last person to love Qrow Branwen.

“What matters most is what Qrow decides on that,” Clover said, “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

This time James has a hand on Clover’s arm, the one without the Words, “And I don’t want you to be hurt either Clover. I care about you too, please know that.”

Clover always thought his relationship with James would always be of business, that the General wouldn’t actually tolerate Clover’s friendly nature. Maybe it was only because of Qrow that broke away the roughest of James’ exteriors.

Having James’ trust is one thing, his care is another thing entirely as there is a great melting of happiness and sadness is in his blue eyes.

Clover doesn’t have it in him to question what is going through James’ head. They may be steadily getting close but James is still a man of steel and little clovers will crumble under that weight.

That doesn’t ward Clover away though. He’ll understand James one day.

A sudden flash of light catches their attention. The display screen of the hallways has been playing muted news channels but all of them have switched over to a new feed. At the same time, the General’s scrolls rings.

On screen is a live feed on Hill’s watch party. Dead bodies have collapsed in their own blood. Their killer, Tyrian Callows, has the stage and provokes the hunters around him.

Penny is wary and armed but Fiona has succumbed to her injuries, Robyn is furiously stopping the bleeding, and Qrow, weaponless, is there, glaring at Tyrian like he’s utter poison.

That statement is more than correct as he strikes down Marrow.

Clover doesn’t waste another second as Ironwood orders for Tyrian’s arrest. He does however pause when James hurriedly scratches on a note to be delivered to Robyn.

James will tell her the truth.

He nods to his General and dashes out.

It’s a blur as the Ace Captain gathers up his team alongside the weapons of the Vale hunters.

Yang and Blake are with Team FNKI, all authorized to fight the Grimm pounding at the barriers. Jaune has the clearance to have his sword and shield on his person without any gun safety clearances the others have dealt with for their weaponry, he’s already making his way to the auditorium where it’s all going down. Weiss and Oscar are reported to be on an airship back to protect the kid because apparently Tyrian is a known Salem loyalist.

That becomes more evident as Callows antagonizes Qrow and Ruby, hissing out his grievances. The heat is audible as the air transport is tuned into the channel, a live update of events.

And then he brags about cutting Qrow’s Words.

Clover barks at the pilot to fly faster.

From the air, they see the inbounding flying Grimm while the ones at the barrier are currently being taken care of. There’s still plenty of Grimm though, most appear to be centering onto the auditorium.

By the time they reach the ground, a prison transport and two ambulances are parked on the streets.

Nora and Ren are there guiding civilians to get medical help or to where the nearest shelter is at.

Clover sees that the ambulances are both empty, “Where’s Marrow? You got him out.”

Ren’s eyes widened, “How do you know that?”

“Tonight’s event has been broadcasted live and still is,” Vine answered, handing over Ren’s guns.

Elm bluntly chucks Nora her hammer. The Valkyrie is seething with anger, “That’s cruel!”

She only clams down a little when Ren steadies a hand on her shoulder.

He turns to Clover, “Jaune and Marrow are combining their semblances for a combo move.”

The team captain part of Clover wants to instantly grab Marrow to yell at him for putting himself in danger when he’s severely injured. The Ace Captain part of him has already approved of their gamble and prepares for their victory.

Marrow is more than capable for this.

Clover directs the knights to march in on Penny’s signal and for his Ops to stick with the prison transport. Ren theorizes that one section of the neighborhood block would need his semblance and Clover gives him the nod to leave.

That leaves Nora guarding ambulances, her stance is angry and powerful but she squeezes her eyes shut when a nearby kid is crying into an older sibling’s arms.

“They’ll be alright,” Clover assures, speaking in a tone reserved for times like these.

“This is the second time Tyrian attacked us,” Nora soured, a tight grip on her weapon’s hilt, “and I let him kill more people.”

“You didn’t _let_ him do anything,” he told her, making sure she gets the message.

Survivor’s guilt combined with hero complex and this being the beginning of her professional career, Nora must be feeling a lightning storm of emotions. Her utter trust in Jaune is what’s keeping her from going after Tyrian herself.

She’s a lot like Elm, right before the arrest on her drug queenpin sister. Lots of anger ready to lash out on a person hurting the innocence. That justice is dangerous without the right outlet.

Clover will get Elm to talk to her about this later. Right now they put their chips onto the hunters inside.

They only wait a few seconds before Penny calls in the knights, successfully hauling out a detained Tyrian Callows. Vine takes charge at this part, securing the prisoner inside with Harriet and Elm keeping a trained eye on him.

Despite being tied up and surrounded by military personnel, Tyrian strides his way into the transport with ease. That doesn’t give Clover much food for thought, just more paranoia.

Still, there’s satisfaction on seeing this man getting locked away. He’s the one responsible for all the killings in Mantle and likely many more before.

Unconsciously, a part in Clover is pretty damn happy that this guy won’t ever touch Qrow and the others ever again.

The other hunters are exiting the building too, meeting Nora near the ambulances. 

“Nora, how did you get your hammer so fast?” Ruby asked.

“It was lucky timing,” Clover calls over, gaining everyone’s attention.

From a once over, only Fiona and Marrow are severely injured, getting carried by their light haired partners. Jaune’s healing the faunus operative who’s practically collapsed between him and May. Both are on the edge of panic as Marrow winces from the poison.

Qrow and Ruby appear more stressed than hurt so that’s a relief. They become more compose when Clover hands over their scythes.

“There are Grimm sightings at the barrier, almost breaking in. Yang and Blake are already on the scene with assistance of team FNKI.” Clover reports, “A few are making their way air bound.”

“Weiss is taking Oscar back to Atlas,” Jaune said as a medic team wheels out a stretcher for Marrow.

Immediately, Clover helps Jaune lift Marrow onto the stretcher as Robyn and May do the same for Fiona. This close, he can see sweat dripping off Marrow’s forehead, his skin too flushed with unfocused eyes.

It’s painful to see his youngest teammate suffer like this. Clover feels helpless but at least he knows that Marrow’s heading towards the hospital.

One of the medics takes a look at large amount of worrying faces and announces, “Only one person each can join them in their respective transport.”

Robyn’s hands are in Fiona’s weakening hold. Her lips barely tremble with a choice already in her mind.

Guilt and relief shake in Robyn as Fiona smiles, “I’ll be alright. Mantle needs you still.”

Clover wonders if turning her back on Atlas Academy was just as hard. Robyn selflessly chooses the people of Mantle over her own desires. A dedication like that matches with James’ own morals and choices.

Gods, he really wished that Robyn won the election. It is the cruelest of luck that she lost to Jacques Schnee.

She presses her lips against Fiona’s palm, “I love you.”

Almost instinctively, Clover’s eyes travels over to Qrow. He looks stunning and strong but witnessing two soulmates’ love for each other softens his expression. 

They’ve only know each other for about two weeks and yet time does not equal the intense jumble of feelings and emotions Clover holds for the other man.

Joana is goes in Robyn’s stead, reassuring nods passed between them.

Marrow on the other hand has lost all contact with the world.

“Do you ever wonder why we’re here?” He quotes with too much drool spilling from his mouth and hanging tongue.

…Marrow must have been hanging out with Captain Grif again.

Jaune has a weighty guilt ridden expression of his own, “I don’t want to leave him alone. He would want me to help out here but I can’t just abandon him, I’m his soulmate.”

Everyone blinks at that confession.

Oh, that explains a lot.

The duel coffee mugs, one on one training schedules, and the instant connection between them. If Clover paid more attention maybe he would have realized this but he assumed Marrow was in a bit of a crisis regarding soulmates. After all, he got a rocky start with May.

Speaking of who, she breaks the silence, “What?”

She’s pale faced and a million of thoughts are running through her. Robyn’s concerned look is ignored as May only focuses on her soulmate’s _soulmate._

“Oh hi, um, you must be May.” Jaune politely smiles, “He talked about you a lot.”

Somehow the usual awkward knight is composed, perhaps ready for this moment to help out his soulmate.

Yet Marrow, the literal middleman of this relationship, interrupts, weakly reaching out a hand with an equally weak, “May.”

Her hands are around his in an instant.

“He’s going to be a bit delusional,” Ruby warned, “We know from experience.”

Qrow barely hides his wince fast enough, sending a nasty feeling in Clover’s gut.

Jaune urges May, “Go with him, he wants you.”

It took another groan of her name to get May to start moving away.

Clover forces his eyes off of Marrow, the idea of being useless getting too loud. He turns to Qrow for desperate grounding, “Is he going to be lucid?”

The last thing he wants is for delusions to chase around Marrow.

“Thanks to Jaune, yes, he should be more conscious I think. I mostly just remember the pain,” he explained.

A sucker punch feeling hits Clover, regretting on making Qrow remember a horrible moment in his life. The spiels of Tyrian float back into his head. He attempted to kidnap Ruby, fought off Nora and the others, poisoned Qrow and cut up his Words.

Words, somewhere on Qrow’s skin, a private thing that belongs only to Qrow.

A pit of fire looms in Clover’s spine at the thought of Qrow lost in his own darkness due to Tyrian.

His soulmate’s confusion pulls Clover out of his head. “Wait, how did you know to ask me?”

“Qrow,” Nora pulled out her scroll, “the whole thing was recorded and uploaded online.”

“What?”

“That’s why Weiss is taking Oscar out of the city,” Jaune explained. “If Tyrian is here, who knows who else is here?”

These kids are smart to plan that. Now if only they recalled the other person still standing here.

Robyn asks lowly, “What do you mean by that?”

Her eyes linger on everyone’s frozen, tensed expressions. Saving them from Robyn’s determination, Clover steps forward and hands her James’ message.

She reads the tiny paper like it will explode in her face. Her distrust is fair considering everything the military as done or hasn’t done.

And yet she holds out her hand like they’re friends again, “Is this true Clover?”

It’s an interrogation to most people but for Clover, this is a way to finally patch things together. He misses the two of them being side by side.

He takes her hand, something he once did a lot when she wanted to train her semblance and Clover was along for the ride.

“Yes,” he answers and their hands glows as green as his namesake.

It doesn’t satisfy Robyn but it definitely lifts a weight off of her shoulders. She’ll get her answers soon but Mantle needs her and the others hunters’ first.

Everyone gets their orders, either ground team with Robyn and JNPR or air team with anyone not scared of heights.

Flying Grimm goes through loopholes in Mantle’s defenses, over the barrier and too close to the public for the military’s ranged ballistae target homing. Their wings take them almost anywhere so the hunters often get separated.

Clover’s by his self for a few moments, hooking Kingfisher around a felled beast on a rooftop. As he harpoons it, the Grimm continues raging, flapping its limps fiercely until Harbinger in its broadsword form pierces right through until it is dust.

“I’m very lucky you were passing through,” Clover winks.

“When this is over, meet me in my room,” Qrow said, an unreadable expression on him but nonetheless Clover trusts him.

“Okay,” he confirms, sealing the deal.

Qrow nods and turns into a bird, flying off, leaving Clover jaw dropped and awed.

Did that just happen?

Sure yeah, Clover knows about the maiden situation and how Ozpin is the ancient wizard who bestowed their power so it makes sense that there are people who do have magic without having years of lore or something.

Still though, seeing it right before his eyes is one thing. It’s an entirely new feeling of brain frying to see his soulmate, Qrow, turn into a _crow._

How in the world has Qrow _not_ been making crow puns all of this time?

Clover may not have the ability to turn into a plant but he made lifetimes worth of puns and yet in the days of knowing Qrow, not a _single_ bird pun.

How dare that beautiful bastard!

Okay, Clover admits that this is probably the last thing he should ever be mad about.

These are the fisherman’s priorities apparently.

The rest of the night progresses as well as a Grimm invasion usual ends. Robyn’s remaining hunters and the kids teamed up extraordinary well. The damages are manageable. Apparently Yang has a reputation on destroying night clubs and now Kai’s mad about the Yang-sized crater in her club.

Aside from that, the news of an arrested serial killer and his recent victim isn’t the best thing to learn as they turn in for the night.

The kids all had a glazed over look in their tired eyes during the post briefing meeting where Ruby and Penny recounts tonight’s events. Qrow had that stiff posture that read that he wants to hug his niece but chose to not to.

The moment the meeting is over, Qrow is at his nieces’ side. Both he and Yang make sure that Ruby can make it to their dorms.

As the Vale group goes down one pathway, Clover finds himself walking with Penny.

“Penny, are you alright?” He regrets using the same exact question from months ago, back when Penny learned about what really happened to her in the tournament.

Her head dips a little, “I keep playing back everything. Tyrian attacked Robyn last and I tried to save her. When the lights turned on, he would’ve made this escaped if not for the stage light falling on his head.”

“Bad luck,” Clover smiled.

In Qrow’s account, he also got on stage to protect Robyn. It all makes sense but he doesn’t see where Penny is going.

“If he had escaped, I would be in standing in his place,” her tone goes cold, not robotic. Penny never has a dull voice.

Oh, Clover pieces together the picture. Tonight’s headlines would have been very different if Callows did escape and Penny, with her swords fanned out, was left with the blame.

But that didn’t happened.

“Penny, it’s okay to admit you’re not alright,” Clover tells her but it backfires when she buries her head in her hands.

“This is confusing,” she murmurs. “When people are asked if they are okay, the usual response is that they are. But that is never the honest response.” Penny peeks up between her fingers, her green eyes young and innocent. “You said it’s okay to say that I’m not? But no one wants to hear that I’m not okay.”

In other words she has to be constantly perfect, flawless, something built to have no of human error.

Carefully, Clover reaches over to take Penny’s hands, “I’m here and I’m asking you. Your feelings matter, if you feel happy or sad, that is all important because it is your feelings.”

She mulls it over in her head, “I don’t like feeling used to fuel other people’s pain. My death hurt my friends. Ruby she,” Penny’s eyes wandered off to where the red hooded girl left, “She’s the first one to call me a person. She believes that I have a soul even though I don’t have Words. Ruby makes me feel things too.”

“Good things, I hope.”

A smile finally finds its way onto Penny, “She makes me feel happy and more.” Her shoulders slide down, her smile weaker, “It’s all still confusing.”

“That’s how relationships can feel like,” he nodded. Clover pats her head, “You’re happy to be with them, terrified to see them hurt, and you never know what the other person is thinking too.”

“Is that the case for Marrow?” She looks off again, this time with a stream of data scrolling pass her eyes, “He and May weren’t happy to see each other today but now she’s waiting for the doctors’ report on his stable condition.”

Hearing Penny casually checking hospitable security isn’t new. She has clearance for anything related to Pietro and Doctor Grey if they need to be reached. Also a weight of worry has left Clover now knowing Marrow’s okay.

“Marrow and May are going to talk, that’s for sure,” he said. “They need to figure out where they stand because while they met first, Jaune is also his soulmate. That might make things more confusing but not complicated.”

Penny fiddles with her gloves, “What about me? I don’t have any Words and I’m already confused about Ruby and Weiss.”

Okay, he expected the Ruby part but not the Weiss part. It’s likely about how she is Ruby’s soulmate but Penny is not presenting this as jealousy or envy. She’s wishful and hopeful.

“This all is a bit confusing,” he admits, “but I know you’ll figure it out if you talk to them.”

She takes a breath and folds her hands, nodding, “Okay. Will you do the same with Huntsman Uncle Qrow?”

The title gets a laugh out of the captain, “Yeah, I’m planning on that right now.” He scratches the back of his neck, nervous energy starting to rise, “Wish me luck.”

The Protector of Mantle has her cheer back as she salutes, “Find a Penny, pick her up and all day long you’ll have good luck.”

Clover carries that optimism with him, waving her goodnight before he reaches Qrow’s room. The man is about to knock when he sees Qrow walking to him.

He must have stayed with his kids until they slept. It’s really nice to see Qrow be the sweetest mother hen in Atlas.

“Hey,” Clover greets quietly. He can’t force his voice any higher, too tried from today. The kids might not feel too great either and that’s an uneasy thought. Needing to be sure, he asks, “Are the kids sleeping?”

“As best as they can.” Qrow too is unhappy with that answer, rubbing the back of his neck, “How’s your kid?”

 _His_ kid?

It snaps together in his head. No one has ever referred the rookie operative as his. It’s oddly nice.

“Marrow’s stable,” he breathes out, the news finally settling in his tried brain.

“That’s good,” Qrow said, reaching for the door handle but his hand quivers, “I uh, do you want to come in?”

His voice is laced with hesitation, no more confidence from hours earlier. That’s a shame in Clover’s heart. He loves it when Qrow is sure of himself but right now, the pain in his voice comes from years of bad memories.

Yet still he asks, wanting Clover’s time.

“Of course,” he said because Clover will never say no to him.

As they enter Qrow’s room, the light flickers and only Clover’s presence fixes it. A small detail like that usually has Qrow fussing about their luck but not tonight, he’s too focused.

“There’s something I need, no I want to tell you, Clover,” he starts, fiddling with his rings.

Their eyes meet and the air is caught in both of their lungs. Anticipation and hope Clover taking a step closer but his patience keeps him at bay.

This is Qrow’s moment. He’ll have all of Clover’s life if he asks. Right now though, all Qrow needs his for Clover to listen.

“I think you’re good man and it’s like you’re everything I’m not.” Qrow holds up a hand, knowing that Clover would automatically refute that. He knows Clover too well. “But that’s stupid too because I do see you’re like me. You mess up and you get back up before anyone can even notice a mistake and you’re always watching your back but prioritize the others on the field.”

Clover blinks. He hadn’t realized any of that because no one watches his back.

But it’s different now, Qrow is here.

“That’s where our similarities end because there’s just so much more to you than some golden Atlas boy. You make dorky puns and wear stupid sleeveless shirts despite the weather. You say it’s because you’re used to the cold but I _know_ you just like showing off.”

He smiles shamelessly, okay maybe with some guilt.

Qrow makes a few more attempts to speak again but his mind wanders off, staring at Clover.

He takes this as a sign to speak his own mind.

“Qrow,” he utters practically breathless. “You’re the only one who sees past all of this.” He gestures to his uniform and the clover pin. “Being lucky doesn’t mean I’m perfect because it’s like everyone expects me to be perfect. With you I can just be me.”

“I feel the same way and not just for the whole semblance thing.” Qrow admits that like it just clicked, that their luck doesn’t matter to them. “Clover, I really like being with you and…”

His heart paused with Qrow’s speech. A sudden want is surging through his soul as he breaths out his soulmate’s name, “Qrow?”

Red eyes meet teal and he tries again, “And I, you… I’m your…”

This is it, isn’t it?

Words are failing Qrow, the pinnacle of unsaid emotions between them, and Qrow is physically struggling to get it out of his mouth. Be it fear or doubt or some other thing troubling him, nothing but choked silence is falling from his mouth.

But Clover is here, he’s finally here and he will always be here for Qrow.

Clover unties the red bandana and there it is.

_You better wish on your lucky stars you’re right_

Red eyes following red words and it burns Clover.

His breath is airy, scared and unbelieving, “You knew when we first met?”

Clover closes the distance between them, holding up his arm and his Words for Qrow to believe are really there. His fingers lightly trace the Words but it hits Clover like lightning, sending shivers down his skin.

“It’s just my luck that I arrested my soulmate as our introduction,” he jokes. “Honestly it’s not one of my finest moments.”

“It really wasn’t.”

The silence now is no longer tense, just slow acceptance as Clover watches Qrow stare and touch the Words.

He thinks everything will be alright now but then Qrow’s teary wet eyes pieces through him, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Because Clover couldn’t handle the embarrassment of just one moment of slamming cuffs on him and the next claiming to be his soulmate.

Really, that’s a bit of a reoccurring nightmare because he just knows his parents will never make him live that down.

“I was ecstatic and totally angry at me for letting you walk away, thinking I’m just like any other Atlas elitist,” he admitted. “I wanted to prove to you that I deserve you, woo you even.”

“You don’t have to prove anything,” Qrow shakes his head, “Me on the other hand-“

Clover stops him by pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re my soulmate, Qrow,” He tells him, needs him to know and speak these words into the world, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Really?” He squeaked, his fingers’ hot touch almost burning the skin of his Words.

“Qrow, you are the most amazing person ever who has crashed into my life. I will literally spend years telling you how kind hearted and beautiful you are and,” his entire being is overwhelmed with finally having Qrow right in front of him, his voice trembling as he says, “I finally found you.”

Clover’s world is entrapped within the red eyes of Qrow as warm lips brush up against his.

Qrow speaks with his heart, “I found you too.”

That ruins all of Clover’s resolve, desperately clinging to Qrow as he is the only thing anchoring him from the ocean of raw feelings demanding to have more of Qrow. He’s helpless at the heat from Qrow’s body, a thing he has been craving.

But another need is kicking around in his soul. 

“Your,” Clover’s voice is practically shattering, wetness around his blurry sight, “ _my_ Words, where?”

Qrow guides their hands to the right side of his abdomen.

“May I?” He begs and at Qrow’s eager nods, Clover somehow doesn’t shake as he unbuttons the vest.

Every second is a blessing, a slow release of all of Clover’s darkest thoughts as this need takes over in his rapture. He dips his head to taste the skin at Qrow’s neck. Its collar pushed aside as Clover just takes and savors more of Qrow’s revealing flesh.

His soulmate shivers and creates the sweets of squeaks as Clover praises him with this mouth and teeth. The richness of Qrow’s scent and the battle scars are all beautiful as Clover peels off layers of clothes.

Then at last Clover sees it.

_Lucky you_

It is teal and has a thin line of healed skin strike right through it.

When Clover brushes fingertips against it, Qrow flinches.

“He did this to you?” The tone is deeper than Clover has ever spoken. Gravity in his core as he pictures a scorpion dueling a crow.

That criminal took away something important from Qrow, inflicted pain and misery into something that should have gave Qrow piece of mind or hope or knowledge that Clover is out in the world waiting to say these Words to him.

Clover decides to give Qrow new memories to tie into the Words, it’s only fair.

“Oh you uh heard that part.” Qrow stammers with shame, “I’m really sorry, I should’ve paid more attention or protected Ruby better or-“

Qrow deserves everything Clover offers as he sinks to his knees to mouth at _Lucky you._

He’ll laugh at the fact that his signature phrase is Qrow’s Words later.

Right now all of his attention is on mapping out the Words and body of a man Clover loves.

Gasps of air expel from Qrow, tremors going up and down his body and Clover hang onto those narrow hips. His nails digging into the hipbones that Clover wants to bite but he’ll get to that eventually as he pushes Qrow backwards.

They reach the bed where Qrow drops all his weight and sits at the edge with Clover wedging his way into the space between those lean thighs. Qrow’s knees rub against his shoulders and Clover nearly groans from the heat of it all, still busy on kissing the rest of Qrow’s slim stomach.

Hands start to dig into his uniform collar. Qrow bows his head to meet Clover’s. A silent plea is on his tongue as Qrow stares at him with an intensity that screams for more. A flicker of doubt is still in those red eyes.

Clover will do whatever he can to get those eyes to shine with hope.

“I’m all yours, Qrow,” he promises.

“Yes.” A gasp of air between them is gone as Qrow pulls them in for a kiss.

And with that, nothing but sweet fire and hands goes up and down their bodies.

Clover rises to his feet, pinning Qrow down against the bed. He loses his hands in the dark tresses of hair as their mouths create messy kisses.

A weird fluffy thing is felt in Qrow’s hair. Surprise and curiosity pulls Clover away from a kiss as he brings his hand out to see black downy feathers stuck to his fingertips.

“Huh, what’s this?”

“Uh,” Qrow flushes even pinker, “it’s a bird thing.”

“It’s so soft,” he awes, digging his hands back into the softness. Dark hair and feathers become a mess as he massages the skin. Qrow goes boneless at the sensations, giving Clover complete control. This sight has Clover biting into the neck, “Still can’t believe you can turn into a bird.”

“You got yourself a magical, shapeshifting soulmate,” he laughs, “Lucky you.”

A surge of possessive need and want has Clover sinking his teeth into Qrow’s collarbone, decorating it more and more. He lifts his head back up to devour the image of a gasping Qrow, his soulmate.

“And you’re my Lucky Star,” Clover burrs right before he dives back to the Words of _Lucky you._

Qrow has a death grip on his own Words. _You better wish on your lucky stars you’re right._

He holds onto Clover as his body rocks against him. The whole experience is divine with having Qrow in his arms and their lips just ravish each other.

At some point in the night, Clover gets Qrow on his stomach when he sees it.

A second set of Words are there etched between Qrow’s shoulder blades.

_I meant it when I said it was good to see you again_

It fuels the dying embers of Clover’s darkest thoughts but as if sensing them, Qrow reaches over to caress his cheek. Those gentle strokes easing his soul.

“Lucky Charm?” He calls, his voice quiet and a little out of breath but doesn’t change how beautiful he is.

Clover eases himself down, pressing a gentle kiss to his soulmate, “You have me, Qrow. You will always have me.”

It’s a promise.

Clover can ask later about the Words on Qrow’s back. Whatever it means can hold off until morning because right now, he’ll thank his Lucky Star that he’s right about them.

Lucky them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi thanks for reading! 
> 
> i'm taking my time on chapter three since all i can do right now is write and read and skype my dnd group and stay in my room as this social distancing situation is going on and i wonder how my teachers deal with the online classes for subjects that might not transfer well to the digital world...
> 
> anyway! i hope all have a great fair game week!


	3. when we trust in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a dash of angst centering around clover
> 
> oh and a little bit of ironclover

He can’t fall asleep.

Everything about this should lull Clover into complete ease. He’s in bed with Qrow at probably an unreasonable time in the late night or earlier morning. They just had their confession of being soulmates and had the best tumble into bed with their clothing scattering Qrow’s bedroom floor.

Right now he has Qrow in his arms, quietly catching his breath. His eyes peacefully shut.

Qrow is so beautiful and lovely and calm and Clover doesn’t want to break this moment.

But he can’t sleep.

From this angle, Qrow using Clover’s shoulder as a pillow, Clover with his hands caressing Qrow’s bare hips, his back is left exposed to the cold air. The blanket can’t reach Qrow’s shoulder blades where the second set of Soulmate Words are.

_I meant it when I said it was good to see you again_

Clover shouldn’t assume anything. It’s not place nor is it _his_ Words, clearly. And yet a part of him is desperately curious because Qrow is his soulmate.

It’s a bit unreasonable. Clover can’t just enforce his own jealousy or insecurity on whatever Qrow decides.

Still, it plagues him and in this moment of weakness, of finally having Qrow only for fear of losing him one moment later, Clover’s foolish mouth runs off, “Can I ask about something but you don’t have to tell me anything.” He feels Qrow stop tracing circles on his skin, a fleeting touch that’s making him more nervous, “I’m just um. Well no it’s none of my business and ugh, we just got done actually talking about this and…”

And Clover doesn’t want to ruin this.

Warm lips hum against his neck, “Just spill it, Lucky Charms.”

Well, here goes everything.

“What do you think will happen when you meet your other soulmate?”

Qrow tenses up, way more than Clover has ever felt a person freeze up. Slowly, he lifts his head up, his red eyes terrified and shocked and oh apparently Clover really is messing this up already.

_“What?”_

They stare at each other with wide eyes, both unprepared for this.

“There are words on your back,” Clover said and traces underneath them. It’s not his Words so it doesn’t feel right if he touches the blue script. Qrow trembles nonetheless and that is not a good sign. “You didn’t know about them?”

Even his voice trembles as Qrow shakily gasps, “No, I, _what?_ What do they say!?”

Clover doesn’t want to say it. That feels even more wrong because that means that there is someone else in the world that needs Qrow just as much as Clover.

He doesn’t know why but in the back of his head he’s making a lucky guess on who these Words correlate to.

If Clover is right then everything from the moment he was partnered with Qrow makes sense.

But he needs to hear Qrow’s mind first before Clover loses himself in his own paranoia.

It feels wrong, utterly wrong and maybe a betrayal to think this but if Clover didn’t stupidly open his mouth then Qrow may have never acknowledged the Words. He couldn’t do that, he wants the best for Qrow and if that means this other soulmate then so be it.

Clover says the Words that don’t belong to him and Qrow’s entire being collapses into Clover.

He promised to his soulmate that Qrow will always have him. Clover isn’t going anywhere.

Where ever Qrow goes, that’s for him to decide.

“Oh shit,” Qrow dunks his head against Clover’s chest, “Oh my god, shit, fuck oh god.”

More curses spill from those kissed-stained lips. His fists ball up the bedsheets in shaking fury.

“Qrow,” he whispers and tries to comfort him. One hand massages at base of Qrow’s neck while the other caresses his cheek. 

“It’s James,” Qrow said and squeezes his eyes shut, “Shit, he really did this. Of fucking course he would do this.”

“Do what?” He asks, already with an idea in mind.

“Clover, he knows about _lucky you_ and I,” he sighs heavily, unsure on where to go with this, “he made us partners and…”

Clover remembers moments before the watch party got attacked, back when Clover saw James hold a hand over the right side of his ribcage. Then even before that there are moments where James’ eyes follow them out of his office, observing and waiting for them to realize they are soulmates and perhaps would eventually fall in love.

Yet all along he too was Qrow’s soulmate.

Just what did he plan to do with all of this exactly?

Did James really think he can just take a backseat and let Qrow and Clover live on without him?

Qrow asks a question of his own, his whole body shaking, “Does he not want me back?”

A small sniffing noise alerts the quiet darkness around them and Clover does what he thinks is best. He wraps his arms around Qrow tightly, shifting over to have their bodies pressed together.

He wants to ground Qrow and his spiraling mind, hushing into his ear, “No, that’s not it, Lucky Star. I’m sure that’s not it.”

His soulmate isn’t convinced from the way he digs his nails into Clover’s shoulders, his breath uneven as silent tears threaten to fall.

Whatever happened between Qrow and James, Clover won’t find out in this moment. All he can ascertain is that they’re important to each other.

Guilt and anger fuels the heat of Qrow’s glare, “You can’t defend him Clover, you fucking can’t right now.” He squirms his way out of Clover’s arms, the sudden void of Qrow making everything feel colder. “Why are you even doing that? This is my fucking problem and we just _found_ each other and now this shit happens and…”

The fire instantly dies out as silent sobs wrack from Qrow’s chest. Clover wants to just wrap his arms around his Qrow but he hesitates.

Qrow’s right, he can’t speak for James right now, especially when he and Qrow have just crossed this new line for the both of them. But Clover won’t let Qrow struggle alone.

“Qrow, I promise you, I’m not leaving you.”

He hopes to the gods and the fates and the universe that this is the right thing to say because he honestly doesn’t know. Clover just wants Qrow to catch his breath because everything about this soulmate thing is overwhelming and bombarding the man in only a matter of hours.

Or perhaps much longer, years spent between Qrow and James full of longing and wishing.

It took a matter of weeks for Qrow and Clover to finally confess to each other only for them both to find out about James’ involvement on a whole new level.

Qrow, a shuddering pale body, flings himself back at Clover and hides his face against Clover’s neck.

A new question is posed as Qrow mutters hesitantly, “Do you… _also_ have more Words?”

“No,” Clover answered but after all of this, he isn’t quite sure. In a light hearted tone, he asked, “Could you double check for me?”

It’s a distraction, an offer to take their minds off of Qrow’s panic. The huntsman gladly straddles over Clover’s body. His red eyes practically glowing with the moonlight as he lets his hands wander around the skin before him.

Qrow’s touch is hot and slow and mesmerizing as the both get lost in the sensory. No other Words are etched, only the ones that belong to the man on top of him.

Murmurs fall from Clover’s lips, pressing them against the crown of Qrow’s forehead. He lulls and hums whatever he can to rest Qrow’s mind but it must be far away now.

They can figure this out in the morning, the kingfisher whispers to the crow.

Clover only falls asleep when he’s completely sure Qrow is dreaming.

Even for his own dreams are a bit restless. For the life of him, he can’t remember the details, only the old fears and callous voices claiming that everyone only needs Clover for his luck.

It was an old rumor that General Ironwood handpicked Clover the moment he unlocked his semblance.

Yes it that was utterly bogus, what with Clover figuring out his luck before anyone was impressed with an officer like Ironwood.

Yes Clover knows better, he once confronted James on the matter but it just took one kind hearted smile from the man to know all James saw in him was goodness and potential.

But now there was a whole new possibility of James stringing Clover up the ladder.

This was all for Qrow, the partnership, the inner circle, the night off, it was all orchestrated by one James Ironwood.

A part of Clover feels used and bitter, thinking that James only needs him to pick up the pieces of Qrow’s heart.

That’s a cruel, arrogant plan, to shove the pain and failure of a relationship onto Clover like he’s just a damn miracle worker.

Yet Clover hopes for the better, hell, he knows better.

This is James Ironwood, a man who pushes everyone away if he thinks it’s for the greater good. Whatever he planned for his soulmate is no doubt of the same magnitude.

And that just means the same is said for Clover.

Where James and Qrow stand only takes one look to know that however complex their history is, they love each other.

Meanwhile the bond between Clover and James is only seen with professional titles and uniforms. They’re relationship is a different kind of privacy than it is with Qrow because as far as Clover knows, he only has Qrow as a soulmate. Not James.

This is very confusing to think about at six in the morning.

His early bird mental clock has Clover awake with Qrow still in his arms.

This is everything Clover has wished and longed for and it’s near perfect.

It becomes a totally new nebula when Qrow’s eyes flutter open with the sweetest of crooked smiles.

As they get ready for the day, Clover redressing in the clothes that got tossed around, Qrow comes up with the simple plan of just talking to James.

And if it turns into a screaming match then Qrow claims that no one should be surprised to see Winter chasing a bird down the halls.

Yep, this is legendary Qrow Branwen, master scythe wielder and a complete featherbrain.

“I just can’t believe him.” Qrow shook his head, adding, “Okay not just him but me too. I never fucking even thought to check around for a second Soulmate Words. I was too busy dreading one.”

Clover can’t stop the sudden bout of worry radiating off of him.

Qrow takes it in a different light, trying to resolve the matter, “No now you, I meant about me being me.”

Yeah that’s what Clover is worried about, wrapping up his soulmate in his arms as if that can ward off all of Qrow’s self-doubt and self-deprecation. It won’t but he tries, he’ll always try for Qrow’s sake.

“I do not dread you and I know that you’re beating yourself up about James so you have to go talk with him.”

“What if I ruin everything?” Qrow mopes.

“What if you don’t?” He offers.

Groaning, a soft punch hits his arm. “You’re so damn optimistic.”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh really?” Clover teases and releases the hug in a dramatic fashion, “Such a shame, to be denied of my soulmate.” Yeah, he’ll ever tire of that title. Opening the door, he casually complains, “I guess there’s nothing left to do but never fuck again.”

“Hey wait,” Qrow calls to him, his grumpiness following Clover out the door, “I did _not_ mean it like that.”

“Sure you didn’t,” he shrugged, already walking ahead and just has he hoped Qrow blocks his path.

His red eyes are narrowed, “I know what you’re doing Clover.”

“Oh?”

Clover hopes that Qrow understands that he needs to be in a better head space before he confronts James. If Qrow bursts in hot tempered or worst, dismissive of anything James would say, then they both might hurt each other even more. 

Qrow shakes his head a bit, a way to focus his disorganized thoughts, “Look, I’m sorry for telling you off, I just,” an exhausted sigh spill from kissed lips and he nervously tugs at his hair, “I don’t know what I want from him.”

He reaches over, gently taking the hand out of soft hair to ground Qrow.

Clover asks his soulmate the scariest question ever, “Do you love him?”

A faraway look takes over red eyes while Clover’s own are desperately trying to be swallowed up in this feeling of hopelessness.

From last night, yes, there is hope between Clover and Qrow.

From last night, yes, Clover knows he won’t be the first or last person to love Qrow,

But last night was only their start, Qrow had other loves before Clover and one of them is James Ironwood.

That gets confirmed as Qrow utters softly, “Yeah, I still do.”

A constricting grip is around Clover’s heart, mourning something he had for years when in reality it lasted for one night.

Why would Clover encourage his own heartbreak?

Because he loves Qrow, that’s the easiest answer in the world. Clover wants Qrow to be loved and know that he is loved by so many people. That includes both him and James.

It still hurts though, a selfish part of Clover believes this, wants some sort of soul claim onto Qrow but that goes against everything Clover values.

Love goes beyond soulmates. Clover’s parents proved that when they raised him and taught him about the Soul Words they never had for the other.

From other soulmate bonds, they too chose something platonic or something in that nature.

Elm has yet to figure out the details between her and Vine. She opened up about her confusion on how to approach Vine on their relationship ever since Vine came out as asexual and asked her out on a date.

That of course is not the issue here, she had vented. It’s the fact that the two of them would still argue in the field and outside of the uniform Elm isn’t known for her subtly and would still struggle to talk with Vine without overwhelming each other.

Still, they take it one date at a time.

And Clover did that for Qrow, albeit without actually saying they were dates, but he can’t deny how strong these feelings are growing, still growing and now he just has to question if Qrow feels the same way.

He can’t help but believe whatever Qrow feels for Clover, it’s nothing compared to the old love he still has for James.

Clover will accept that. Accept that James is one of Qrow’s first loves and a soulmate to top it off. That’s more than fortunate for Qrow, this is something he deserves and Clover should be the lucky one to be a small part of it.

“Clover,” Qrow’s soft voice breaks away the flood inside his head. Their hands squeeze together and he’s lost in red eyes, “what we have, it is new and important to me.” Clover’s breath escapes him, clammy doubt and worry fleeting away as Qrow presses their foreheads together, “Please believe me.”

He only has one response to that, promising, “I do Qrow. I believe you, I will always believe you.”

This magical bird, loving and compassionate man, with faults and hopes and fears and dreams and much more is someone Clover will devote his soul to.

Just to test him, a playful glint is in Qrow’s eyes, he asks, “Even when I’m a featherbrain?”

“Especially when you’re a featherbrain,” Clover swears and closes the distance between their lips.

It’s a different intensity compared to last night. There’s patience and it is solid and secure and it feels like Qrow is making a promise to Clover, promising that this moment it real.

That’s when reality takes its toll with a familiar and loud yell of Elm’s “Captain!”

He resists the urge to throw something at her head, something he hasn’t done since their early operative days.

The soulmates break away to see down the hall is Elm, grinning so wide it must hurt and tapping her toes happily. She is literally seconds away from tap dancing. Clover can see it as she says, “Well, well, my work here is done.”

Qrow, oblivious to the many times Elm had to push Clover into Qrow’s free time or distract the kids or cover Clover’s paperwork, said, “You didn’t even do anything.”

Elm is not discouraged at that, staring right at Clover with great satisfaction, “My work here is done.” Then her tone shifts into the humble friend Clover grew up with, “Well actually work has just begun. The meeting is in ten minutes, sir.”

“Right,” he said, as if he actually does remember. Look, last night took all of his focus. Clover tells the person holding his heart, “Engineer report for Amity.”

“Go already,” Qrow orders and Clover’s is not one to disobey.

Still if Qrow did ask him to spend breakfast together then Clover may be tempted to skip, oh wow this bird has so much power over him already.

As they part ways, Clover barely notices Elm just silently exploding.

“So,” she begins, batting her eyelashes as everything in her vibrates, “You got your bird.”

She can’t possibly be more excited than Clover about all of this. Well, if happiness cancels out all of his fears then yeah, that stacks Elm’s optimism above Clover.

“I think so,” he tries to say with whatever confidence remained after everything.

They stop walking when Elm holds onto his shoulders in a death grip, “You only _think_ so? Did he break your heart?”

“What? No-“

“I won’t hesitate to have Timber fall onto his messy bed head.”

“Yes, I know that but-“

“I am not scared of him,” she nearly shouts into his face. Elm leans away to reconsider, “Well, I am scared of his kids, especially Blake.”

“Why Blake?”

“She’s too crafty to land a real hit on her.”

“Hey!” Poking her head out of the meeting room, Harriet calls over, “Are you two done or what?”

The Ace Captain hopes that will be the end of all of this, no more dramatic reactions to Clover’s and Qrow’s new relationship status.

That is proven wrong when he takes one step into the room and Vine casually greets, “Hello Captain, congratulations for finally talking to Branwen.”

He blinks, totally not expecting Vine to tease him, “Um, thank you Vine, um how do you know?”

The alabaster hunter points at Clover’s bare left arm.

 _You better wish on your lucky stars that you’re right_ has nail markings dug around the Words.

Clover must have forgotten his bandana somewhere in Qrow’s bedroom.

“I think you need this more than me,” Harriet shoves a granola bar into his hands.

The blushing man is half ready for more teasing but takes a quick glance to the room. Lopez is thankfully ignoring the operatives, pulling up holograms and stuff while the other leading scientist, Doctor Emily Grey is cheerfully sipping her tea. Amusement is in her purple eyes, an emotion Clover expected to see from the rookie who is out of commission.

Right, Marrow is still in the hospital.

It’s less vibrant without his earnest and playful energy. Compare that to actually seeing Marrow drained of his life and aura was a tragedy to witness.

As if reading his thoughts, Vine updates him on Marrow’s status. The faunus has recovered immensely but the doctors need to keep him in for a day.

That’s good news, a relief really as all the Ace Ops stand a little easier.

“We got more good news,” cheered Doctor Grey, starting up the meeting with her usual bout of enthusiasm. “The parameters of the Amity satellite have efficiency reached the further edges of the continent.”

“And how’d you manage that?” Vine asked.

Before the good doctor can ramble excitedly about their efforts, Lopez tapped on his scroll to pop up a new screen, this time a live ongoing call from Atlas’ top agent.

“We don’t need the details right now, Grey,” Agent Carolina interrupts.

She crosses her arms, “Do any of you soldiers understand how amazing this satellite is? We’re on the break through to get global communications up!”

“That is very extraordinary,” the blue armored agent said with a hint of impatience. Somehow Clover can tell that she’s looking at him through the helmet visor, “Captain Ebi, you should know the General has brought me up to speed with the situation.”

“Right,” Clover affirmed, recalling her high status. He’s almost tempted to ask if the rest of the Reds and Blues know.

Something on his face must have given it away because Agent Carolina emphasizes, “Only me and Wash know.”

He nods to understand but at the same time he can’t. Clover would have no idea how to face his team if Ironwood only brought Clover into the inner circle and not the rest of the Ops.

They say that they’re all just co-workers but Elm is still his best friend and Marrow’s injury effected them all more than ‘just co-workers’ could ever shrug off.

Agent Carolina reports her mission. Her teams are currently out in the tundra heading westward to investigate the unusual Grimm activity. In the meanwhile they’re also carrying a signal tower to relay with the Amity satellite to help boost the connection.

Their hopes are to connect communications with Argus and then Mistral.

Again the science goes over the operatives’ heads. Only Grey and Lopez could thoroughly explain the logistics of it all but no one at seven in the morning wants to hear it.

With that Lopez closes the meeting, Agent Carolina ends the call, and the engineer and the doctor give the Ace Operatives the room. Because of last night, mission reports and files take up their time for the following mornings as a way to recover.

“There were no issues when imprisoning Callows?” Clover asks. He read the report on his scroll but hearing it from his three teammates feels a whole lot better.

“If he wasn’t muzzled I would’ve ended up punching him,” Harriet said.

“Fair,” he agreed.

Vine summed up, “Everything went smoothly, Captain.”

“But from the hickeys at your neck,” Elm winked, “you had a rough night!”

Their optimistic and ever composed captain attempts to hide his blushing face behind his hands.

“Stop it,” he weakly ordered.

“Branwen probably asked for more,” Harriet teased.

Clover groaned in misery and glared at two women currently tormenting him, “Okay, you all done yet?”

“Absolutely not!” Elm promises, bubbling with energy, “You finally got your bird.”

He should be sharing her enthusiasm but he can’t. “I’m not completely sure if I do.”

“Oh,” Harriet drops her jokes, her lips in a thin line, “Is he like me?”

It’s common knowledge for them to know that Clover is romantic at heart. He’s been flirting up a storm and taking Qrow out on dates and perhaps part take in sappy, sighing when daydreaming about his soulmate. So it’s assumed that he wants to have a grand romance with a happy ending.

As for Harriet, she’s all dandy and ready for her own happy ending with a soulmate or a friend or just some life partner. She’s aromantic, turned down a few people because they didn’t get that she just doesn’t have a romantic attraction to them.

She may have not yet soften to up Clover in their years as operatives to open up about her love life but Clover seen her go through a few dates that leave her longing for a permeant partner who understands her sexuality.

“No he’s not,” he tells her. “It’s something else, um,” he scratches his ear, unsure on how much to say, “Well more like someone else.”

“Ah,” Vine nods, instantly picking up the clue, “his predicament is similar to Marrow’s.”

“Wow,” Elm blinked, “I thought having multiple Words was uncommon.”

“Statistically it is unpredictable.”

“What you just said, that’s an ox moron right?”

“Oxymoron and yes.”

Harriet clapped and said dully, “This is very riveting, everyone enjoying their love life. That’s my cue to leave.”

The speedster doesn’t wait for permission and heads out, likely to the kitchen since Clover ate her granola bar.

On that thought, breakfast does sound good. Right as the operative make their way to their designated kitchen and lounge, a loud greeting call to Clover.

“Hey Fish Sticks,” Robyn casually waves as if she hasn’t stepped into the academy since her graduation that she didn’t show up to.

“Robyn, you’re here,” he pointed out the obvious, tempted to say she’s unsupervised.

“Yep, had a chat with Ironwood and well,” she shrugged, “it was a lot more than I ever expected.”

It’s almost a relief to have Robyn here but Clover knows that she only learned part of the truth, still in the dark about the details of Salem. Logical, Robyn’s still a major political figure and ally to the General. Clover knows better though, Robyn will dive deeper for the whole truth.

Take now for instant as she approaches him, grinning and baiting for more information, “You really couldn’t spare me a hint about any of this?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

She frowns, “Clover this isn’t some personal private thing. This affects everyone in Atlas and Mantle. Callows hurt my people and whoever he works for scares Ironwood.”

Vine steps forward, “The hallway isn’t a good place to talk about this, Miss Hill.”

“Stretch, if you checked the news you’ll see a lot of people have already theorized everything Callows said last night.” Her eyes never left Clover, “Although it’s mostly gossip on Five O’clock Shadow rather than any leads on a Queen.”

Of course Robyn would hone onto that slip up, whether it was Tyrian being sloppy or overzealous.

“Robyn,” Clover doesn’t know how much to trust her or not so he warns her, “The General tried to keep all of this a secret to protect everyone.”

“He’s scared,” she repeats, “and if he’s been scared all this time then what has he been doing about it? Will Amity really solve everything?”

“We can only hope so.”

Robyn doesn’t need her semblance to see that Clover is not lying. He was always an open book about his hope.

She sighs, “You still trust him.”

His immediate answer would always be yes, Clover still trusts James but after seeing how Qrow falls apart at the idea of James rejecting his Words, it haunts Clover.

Whatever plan or excuse or justification James has doesn’t change the fact that he hurt his soulmate. He hurt Qrow.

The silence in the hallway casts a big light to Clover’s no response, his teammates eyeing their captain with worry but Robyn is observant, calculating his hesitance and faraway mind. 

“I’m going to see Fiona,” Robyn changes the topic, knowing the moment is lost and Clover needs to focus on something else. “She’s roomed in the same hallway as Marrow, wanna come?”

“Yeah,” he nods immediately and thinks out loud, “Actually we should grab someone else too.”

Vine and Elm decided not to risk being at the receiving end of Robyn’s silver tongue, giving their leader all that fun. Robyn knows when to stop at least, especially when she realizes who Clover is taking her to.

It’s literally a walk down memory lane between for the two Atlas graduates. He still remembers small stuff they did like training or cramming for finals. Clover thought they were close back then because he was never surprised when Robyn left Atlas.

There were signs, Robyn attempting to fix school guidelines for the scholarship students or the many open rebellions against discriminatory teachers. She was always a caring leader in the end. That’s what Clover always thought of her.

What did _she_ thought of _him_ though?

She used to be one of the many classmates that called him lucky but with Robyn being Robyn, she dug a little deeper. They actually ended up bonding during a finals week, yah when all students are at peak anxiety about their grades and awake at three in the morning.

Anyway long story short, he and Robyn ended up in the same study room with a mountain of coffee and just rambled out their deepest thoughts or stupidest questions on life. He kind of misses those moments where the two of them were just teenagers just galaxy-braining away in the hours where no one was awake.

The student dorms are as pristine and orderly as expected but one section in particular is bursting with shouting between two open doors.

“I want more ruffles!” Nora’s distinctive whining is booming from her dorm, “More!”

“Your dress is practically fifty pounds,” the sharp voice of Weiss lectures.

“I can bench that!”

“The weight is on your hips not your arms!”

Clover and Robyn shrug at each other. He cautiously takes a step closer to knock on JNOR’s doorframe, “What’s got you all excited?”

Ren leans halfway out the doorway and stated, “Fashion.” He sinks back in.

From RWBY’s doorway their leader pokes her head out, short hair full of curling rolls, to shout, “Hi Clover, oh hi Robyn! We’re getting ready.”

She ducks her head back in before he could question further. Yang takes her sister’s place, wearing a black and purple robe. Makeup fell on the cotton material, matching the colors highlighting Yang’s purple eyes, “Sup Clover, should we start calling you Uncle Clover now?”

Clover cannot speak in clear sentences, too choked up with the sudden familial status.

Robyn elbowed him, “Nine kids Clover, you ready for that much responsibility?”

Because his brain lags at the realization he needs to have a good impression for the kids, he wonders who the ninth kid is. That’s when the telltale noises of Penny’s boot thrusters are heard right as she dashes from JNOR’s room to RWBY’s.

“I haven’t spent the longest time with them but I sure I can,” Clover tells her.

“Marrow did shape up pretty well under your care,” someone complimented.

Qrow takes Yang’s place at the doorway, his face also lightly brushed with red make up and his lips colored black. In other words, his soulmate is gorgeous.

He stammers, “Wow, you look amazing.”

A natural blushing rises on Qrow’s cheeks. “Blake’s testing her kit on me for tonight.”

“Tonight?” Clover fantasies a candle lit dinner but that won’t explain the other kids’ sudden fashion craving.

Weiss comes out of the other dorm room, her hair in a messy bun. She crosses her arms. “My father is throwing a party and Qrow is a guest of honor. This means he needs a new outfit immediately.” The young Schnee points a sharp nail at Clover, “Don’t think you can whisk him off. You’ll have to save it for later, Captain.”

Giving into temptation, Clover winks to Qrow, “I’ll just have to be really lucky to get you.”

That adorable flush reaches over to Qrow’s neck, unfortunately the bite marks Clover left were underneath a layer of contour makeup.

“Stop it,” Robyn flicks Clover’s ear, something she picked up years ago. “Jacques Schnee is throwing a party tonight?”

She masterfully shows restraint by not just kicking down the academy’s weapons workshop to craft up paint explosions. Clover internally shudders at the memory of the senior prank.

“He’s celebrating his election, honoring Qrow and Ruby for arresting Tyrian and trialing Ironwood for his council seat,” Weiss listed with distain. “I’m almost impressed by his subtly.”

“It’s like it’s his birthday and Christmas and a raise,” Qrow chalked up.

Robyn massages her forehead, “All of this reeks of money.” She shakes her head, needing to regain her sanity and get back to Fiona’s side. “Okay we’ll deal with that later. We’re actually here to pick up Lancelot.”

“Wait me?” Jaune exits his dorm, his hair a little damp and flat without the usual spikes.

“We’re gonna check on Fiona and Wags, you in?”

“Yes,” he agrees a tad shakily, probably nervous to see his soulmate in the hospitable. He calls to his teammates, “Ren, don’t let Nora design my suit please, thanks!”

Clover turns to Qrow, “Are you also designing a suit, Baby Bird?”

His soulmate blushes at the new nickname, “Um, not really, the kids got an idea for me.”

“Uncle Qrow is gonna be the bees’ knees!” Ruby exclaimed.

“Oh he is totally going to show off his knees too,” shouted Yang.

“I look forward to seeing that,” Clover presses a quick kiss goodbye, the scent of his lipstick is strong up close and that detail just tugs at his heart.

Qrow blushes a little darker, “Um you got some…”

He rubs his thumb across Clover’s bottom lip and it takes a lot of self-control to not lick it.

Well Clover does wink though.

That’s as far as they can get because a gagging Weiss drags Qrow back into the girls’ room, “Okay enough of that! Say your goodbyes Qrow because you have a lot of clothes to go through.”

“Say hi to them for me,” Qrow waves as the three take their leave.

Jaune slowly shakes his head, “I think I learned way too much of Qrow’s love life in just one day.”

“I feel yah,” Robyn sympathized, “Clover was notorious for grand acts of love.”

“Notorious is one way to describe my embarrassment.” He elbows his friend, “Same can be said about you Robyn.”

“What did you two prepare a song to ask someone to the dance or wear a dress for them?”

The older hunters automatically picture Jaune doing those examples. Knowing these kids, he’s probably not kidding.

Enroute to the hospitable, they grabbed those mini sandwiches at Robyn’s favorite vending machine and got clearance for an air transport.

So as their ship piloted out of the academy’s bay, Jaune asked, “Hey is Qrow alright?”

Clover wished he knew the answer. There wasn’t anything to gage from Qrow earlier, no clear sign if he talked to James or not.

“You’re the one who’s been with him this morning.”

“Um not exactly,” he shrugged, “We were all talking about last night, about how Tyrian’s Words were edited out of the live stream and then Qrow just ran out of the room.”

“Oh,” Robyn pips up, thinking rapidly as her eyes landed on Clover, “Ooh.”

“Oh what?”

“Qrow told me and Ironwood about the editing thing too and then well, said that he really needed to talk to _Jim_ about something.”

Jim.

No Jimmy or James, just Jim.

That intimacy just breeds out a lifetime of _something_ Clover cannot grasp.

A hand patting his shoulder gets him out of his thoughts, before a pit in his stomach grew. At first he thought it would be Robyn trying to comfort him but instead he meets Jaune’s gaze.

The young man just looks at Clover and instantly it clicks in his head. Jaune also has a soulmate who longs for another.

“It’s going to be super awkward but Marrow, May, and I will probably end up talking about whatever we are,” Jaune said. This is what he’s been preparing himself for as they get closer to the hospital.

Robyn added in, more for the kid’s nerves, “May was really blindsided by the news. It didn’t help that Marrow was dosed with pain killers when trying to explain it to her.”

Jaune laughed, less stressed at least, “Marrow wasn’t even that good when he explained it to me.”

Yep, that’s the Marrow the captain knows, awkward to people he’s trying to impress. Now the rookie is restrained to a bed and is about to be confronted by both of his soulmates.

The General Doyle General Hospital is a top notch Atlas medical facility headed by Doctor Grey so Clover knew that Marrow and Fiona has the best care. Not to mention, Fria resides here as well, something that Clover keeps in the back of his head.

Robyn leads them down the corridors and points at one room for them. Inside the patient is hooked up to a few tubes and other medical devices to monitor his health and May is seated by the bedside.

Marrow who is very loopy, slurs out, “Hi Clover, Robyn and JAUNEY!” He makes grabby hand motions to the blond, “Jaune, this is May, my other soulmate!”

“Yeah,” she dryly states, “I already met him when you were bleeding out.”

“Rude, you didn’t say hi.”

“Fine,” she huff and aggressively shakes Jaune’s hand, “Hi, I’m May Marigold and no I do not have a second Words set, do you?”

“Yeah I do,” Jaune said stiffly and blurts out, “she’s not around.”

May retracts her hand slowly, “Oh, um.” Her entire being winces with regret, “Shit, I’m real sorry. I just, I’m not the best in hospitals.”

“It’s fine.”

A sudden bout of giggling has everyone staring at Marrow. He sits up proper and mimics holding a mug, “This is fine.”

Clover slaps his forehead, shaking his head a little.

The two younger hunters share identical grins.

“You better be fine,” Clover sighs out.

He goes over Marrow’s other bedside to get a closer look. It appears all the poison is out of his system but from the clipboard attached to the bed, a few internal organs need a bit more recovery time. Stuff like faunus poison isn’t common in the legal medical fields.

“I am,” Marrow confirmed but with a not so steady voice and his eyes do not stay focus.

“You should be,” Jaune mumbled. A haunted look is back on his face.

Right, he was there when Qrow also got poisoned and they were nowhere near medical supplies. That revelation sends a pain in Clover’s gut, remembering the pale scar across Qrow’s Words.

May elbowed Jaune a little roughly, “If you knew he was poisoned then why did you bring him back in to Callows? Sure it worked out but it was beyond risky.”

“May,” Marrow called but that only did a little bit to lessen her glare on the blond knight.

Much to Robyn’s surprise and Clover’s sympathy, Jaune doesn’t buckle under her justified anger.

“My other soulmate is gone.” Jaune began. A mournful and prideful smile is on him. “She scarified herself and pushed me away when I tried to stop her. So when Marrow wanted to stop Tyrian, I wouldn’t let him do it alone. He went in there because he didn’t want to lose you.”

“Jaune,” Marrow whispered, a little speechless.

He held onto Marrow’s hand, “I’ll be here for you Marrow, for whatever you choose.”

May loses all her rage, completely caught off guard at the idea of someone prioritizing her. In her quiet confusion, she turns to Marrow, searching for something.

Under expected eyes, Marrow sheds off his blundering attitude and regains his signature composure, “Jaune, I really do like you and May, despite our fights, I like you too. I don’t want to choose because to me, you’re both my soulmates.” His voice is as small as the water in his eyes, “Please, let me be selfish.”

May reached over to brush a stray hair away from his face, “You’re too good to be selfish. If anything I encourage to you be selfish. So you better not die on us.”

As all of that is going over, Clover returned to Robyn’s side, both slowly exiting the room.

“They’ll make this work,” Robyn said but her eyes aren’t on the three soulmates. No she’s staring at the Words open and free on Clover’s arm.

Perhaps Clover will always be an open book to her.

“Yeah,” Clover agreed with a distant note in his voice as he remembers the Words on Qrow’s back.

Qrow and James, or Jim, a name doesn’t suit well on Clover’s tongue.

It’s easy to track how Clover fell in love with Qrow, a little reckless and rushed but also slow and careful. To remember that James played a major factor in their development is weird feeling.

James was always there, nudging them these birds into the right direction.

Now it’s James that needs them, whether he’ll admit it or not.

Politics were something Clover never liked yet it’s heavily ingrained into military life no matter what. The General’s trial for his council seat is a different battlefield, considering who the challenger is.

The Scnhee Manor, a place Clover has only visited once other time in his first year as Ace Captain. He met the Atlas elite and bluebloods alike, some of who were his estranged cousins that only had one polite conversation with before never talking to him again.

Apparently father’s side of the family still believe it was all Clover’s fault that one cousin in particular rebelled, changed their name to be gender neutral, and moved to Vacuo with a rabbit faunus partner.

Clover used to get postcards from them, waiting the day he’ll use his vacation days.

Anyway, second time here feels no different than the first. A key difference is Whitley, the child host, someone who is so polished up and smug about it. It’s unsettling to see essentially a miniature Jacques.

At least Qrow is on his arm, beautifully wearing a charcoal jacket and a dashing scarlet skirt of feathers. Yang was right. The skirt showed off the man’s knees, something Clover idly glided his knuckles across the moment Qrow got close.

Qrow, blushing and smirking, batted his hand away as they entered the manor.

Whitley did his best formal introduction, snipping a little at his sister about an impromptu song performance. Weiss maturely and subtly insults their father appreciation to improvisation. To counter that, the son retails about Jacques’ hospitality for throwing this party, best food and drinks of course.

That’s when Qrow causally mentions, “Yeah, I don’t drink.”

Of all things, that’s what knocks the high posh attitude off of Whitley, stunned and unsure.

“Really?” Whitley said small, new, and with a genuine surprise that reminds Clover of that cousin of his.

A shift of perspectives, a type of revelation that can never be found in a big, cold manor due to closed doors and closed hearts.

Winter steps forward, “Indeed, some adults choose not to.”

Seeing all three Schnee siblings together is a rare sighting, likely for themselves too.

It’s common knowledge of the tension within the Schnee household but that’s only rumors spread by the high class. In the military there have been a lot of stories about Winter’s rebellion. Either it’s centered on her hatred of her father or her loyalties to James. Few ever think about her relationship with her siblings.

So having them here is both heartwarming and heart aching as Winter fills into the role of big sister than commanding officer.

Whitley must also be rusty as her younger brother, staring oddly at her and Weiss. With posed trained into him, he tries to redirect the conversation, leading them to the ballroom. The boy did stare at Qrow for a few seconds, something very similar to what Weiss does when she’s concerned. 

Aside from the nieces, Qrow had mentioned that Weiss was a big help to him.

Qrow’s withdrawal symptoms would kick up occasionally, some big and some subtle but all in all an uncomfortable experience for the man. Clover makes sure that the huntsman has all the care and supplies he needs whenever the shuddering or the cravings get harsh.

So Clover stays linked with Qrow as they pass through the parlor. Waiters hold their serving trays, some carrying fancy tiny snacks while others hold the finest wines he bets Jacques been saving for a bragging rights.

The ballroom already has a dance floor queued up. Maybe the Vale hunters won’t notice but Weiss certainly narrows her eyes just a bit. That confirms Clover’s thoughts, the dancers were likely hired as entertainment disguised as guests in Jacques’ favor rather his wallet.

Actual elite guests play for their own interests, exemplified as a sudden crowd rushes to Qrow and Ruby, or as the news reports titled, “The Crow and the Rose.”

While the rest of the Atlas military of their party dispersed, his Ops for security and the General begrudgingly greeting other elites, Clover had a front row seat to Ruby’s awkwardness at popularity.

“We were just doing our jobs,” Ruby tried her best at a camera ready smile but it’s a little strained. Good effort though, Clover knew a few of his early years were spent perfecting a fake smile.

Nothing prepared her, or the rest of them, to hear another guest laugh boldly, “You, the Rose, I can’t imagine how terrifying it must be to face off an animal like that criminal. I congratulate your efforts in stopping him. It must be a fantastic duel when you bested him and sliced off his tail.” 

Coldness snaps through Clover, appalled that someone _praises_ a _child_ for an event like that. Yet none of the cheeriness of the other guests bats an eyelash, too comfortable in their skins and mask to care about a child soldier or the flinches in the faunus servers.

“No I did that in self-defense I swear!” Ruby steps back, holding up her hands in innocence but there’s a guilty flash in her eyes when she sees the waiters’ wariness.

Quietly and sturdy, Weiss grounds Ruby with a touch on her elbow, leveling a guarded look at everyone.

Qrow on the other hand bares his teeth, “If you all would give my niece some space.” Heat and anger are practically radiating off of him and Clover squeezing his arm to ground him. “What she did, she did in account of a dire situation in the field against a dangerous man, faunus or not.”

Thankfully, the flaunters get the message, backing off unsatisfied but that gives room for someone young to approach them.

“Oh it’s you,” Weiss greets so flatly that Clover nearly snorts. Besides him, Robyn does.

Unlike their early conversations, this one takes a turn as the blue haired boy winces and asks to Ruby, “Do you know if May’s okay?”

Blue hair, same shade as May’s, oh right. Clover looks to Robyn, seeing her recognition of May’s blueblood family.

The boy’s father sneers, ready to pull him away, “Henry, we do not talk about your cousin.”

Instantly, Clover remembers his own cousin, disowned after coming out. In the corner of his eye, Jaune is glaring at May’s uncle with a hand over his sword hilt.

Continuing, May’s cousin reveals, “I couldn’t find any news if she was, only videos of her fighting that man.”

Now that is not surprising, Atlas’ censored news channels must have wanted to shove the Happy Huntresses out of the heroic spotlight as much as possible.

Robyn, ever the politician, resolves the matter, “She’s fine.” She looks at the boy, Henry, with the same gaze she gives to troubled Mantle kids, “Just staying by Operative Amin’s side.”

This has to be the best and only civil conversation they’ll get because the relieved Marigold is dragged away by his father and Jacque Schnee graces their presence.

“I’m not at all surprised to see my guests enthralled by the likes of all of you. We all love new faces gallivanting through battles and adventures.”

“I didn’t think love or gallivanting would be in your vocabulary,” Robyn politely smacks.

A flash of surprise snuffed out in Jacques’ features, “Miss Hill, a pleasure to see you here. Although I did not know you’re a part of Ironwood’s entourage.”

“They’re my ride.”

Openly unpleased, Jacques must have wanted to pit Robyn against James, probably the only reason she was invited.

He turns to Qrow, masked displeasure back on, “Branwen, I don’t believe we had the pleasure of introductions.”

“That’s because you were a bit focused on hounding Jimmy at the time,” Qrow shares, making sure other nearing guests can properly eavesdrop.

“I was very passionate about my concerns for the General. You must understand that at least.” This man has the silver for tongues, easily putting on a show and like any other Atlas elite Clover knows, Jacques wants Qrow to play jester, “Ah but you might not. You are a foreigner so Atlas affairs are not exactly your style.”

He points his wineglass at Qrow’s feminine outfit but his eyes flicker to Clover on his arm.

It’s no secret of Clover’s sexuality and yet people like Jacque will believe it’s an open wound. They’re wrong. Clover refuses to let his heart be a weakness. He had the fun of debating against Jacque before, left the man grumbling, so he lets Qrow have at it.

And oh, what a sight it is to see Qrow end it all in one sentence.

“If my style is worrying you then I’m afraid you can’t handle the rest of me,” Qrow smiled.

In sheer, pure, unadulterated luck, a chandelier crystal falls breaks off and lands into Jacque’s wineglass.

Its slash nearly ruins the man’s white suit and even more so when Jacque almost hit a guest at the unexpected mess.

“I think your shoes drank too much, Jacque,” Qrow teased, prompting a few other Atlesians to chuckle.

The host glares as much as he professionally cans, “Charming, I bet that’s how you impress all the headmasters.”

Qrow tenses up, a new bite in his voice, “Do you really want to cross that line, Jacque?”

Their host finally cracks underneath the thinly veiled threats. It’s always a treat to see the upper crust money crumble. “I have other guess to greet,” he flees.

“That went better than I expected,” Clover admits with a small laugh. He admires Qrow proudly, “Bad luck huh?”

“Oh I am definitely taking credit for that,” he said, relieved that it’s over but the distress is still there. Qrow’s hands tremble a little, only noticed by Clover as he holds his hand.

It’s the same tremors Qrow would get from exhaustion and withdrawal and jumbling nerves.

The tension nearly collapse out of Qrow when a waiter serves him water, as requested by their child host.

Clover’s so glad the Schnee siblings aren’t like their father.

The party continues fairly well. The kids are enjoying their selves, mostly following Weiss’ lead whenever they’re confused about the tiny forks. The three other ops have patrolled around, nothing out of the ordinary happening. Winter and Penny remain by the General’s side, stuck in a group of suits. Robyn actually sticks close to the kids, observing them.

As for him and Qrow, they finally get have a quiet spot alone. Normally this is the part where Clover acts on his promise to get his hands on Qrow in that dashing skirt but it’s definitely not the time.

“I talked to James.”

Clover patiently waits, endlessly curious of the fate of his soulmate but from the small way Qrow dips his head, staring at the floor, it’s not a good sign.

“He told me that,” Qrow trailed off, struggling to make sense of it all, “his Words, or um, _mine_ , it happened years ago.” He squeezed Clover’s hand, “He knew for so long and he never,” shaking his head, correcting, “ _I_ never noticed if there was a change or _something.”_

For Clover’s Words, Qrow had turned away. Actually he was taken into custody before even seeing Clover’s reaction.

“James never once mentioned it to you,” Clover guessed, “like no hints or implication?”

“That’s not how James works.”

Frowning, Clover should know that and answers correctly, “Right, he just throws himself in his work.”

“Yep,” Qrow confirms with no cheer, “He just decided I was better off with you.”

There’s just something utterly wrong in that conclusion, that Clover is the answer for everything. That just bugs a part of his chest, maybe where his pride burrows, but it’s more than that.

James always avoids his personal issues.

He always prioritizes someone else over himself, even if that means upsetting people.

Clover remembers the way James told him that he won’t be the first or last person to love Qrow.

Does that mean James still holds hope for Qrow to be his soulmate?

Clover doesn’t know.

“You talked to him,” Clover gets their conversation centered, “does that mean he knows?”

“Yep, I showed him my Words,” Qrow admitted with a light pinkness on his cheeks.

He blinked, instantly knowing, “So you thought that taking off your clothes in his private office was a good idea.”

“It was only my shirt.”

Yep, that’s his featherbrain of a soulmate alright.

“Still, that’s enough to really throw someone off their game,” he winks.

Qrow rolls his eyes, “I needed some way to really convince him.” Running a hand through his hair, something that Clover wants to brush too, he rattles out, “He knew all this time that I was his soulmate and never told me because I only had your Words at the time. I know him,” he looks across the ballroom, “I know that he doesn’t want me back.”

There’s that hollow pain, an old would reopen.

Clover wraps his arms around Qrow, reminding him, “That is not true. James is the type of man who sacrifices his wants believing it is someone else’s needs.”

Quietly his soulmate says, “I don’t think he’ll listen to me.”

That begs the question on who would James listen to.

If not his soulmate then…

With his eyes on James, Clover asks, “Qrow, do you trust me?”

“Yeah,” Qrow said, “Of course.”

That simple and sure answer gives Clover enough confidence to do this. He gives Qrow’s cheek a parting kiss before striding over to James. Each step closer is to someone who was once an enigma to Clover.

Everyone raised in Atlas had a mask, decorated with smooth edges or sturdy materials. The core of a soldier is forged through ice and fire, forced to don a pretty face to the public.

James doesn’t wear a mask. No he shapes his entire character to become one.

The tinman, the steel of Atlas, and the General of all generals.

It’s all intimidating and true and none of that stops Clover from holding up his hand, the one connected to his soulmate’s Words.

“James, may I have this dance?”

The General eyes him warily.

For a brief moment, the steel in his eyes flickers into something human.

Before it was unreadable but now, after learning of the Words on Qrow’s back, Clover believes there’s calculated despair. It’s like he justifies stabbing a knife in his leg, that the pain is bearable.

With that high pain tolerance, James accepts his hand, leading them to the dancefloor.

To anyone outside of Atlas, the sudden dancer’s grace in the two men would be a surprise. In reality there were some hardcore mandatory dance classes in schooling system before joining the actual academy.

They keep their eyes locked, as tight as their box step to the waltz.

James breaks the silence and says finitely, “You can’t fix everything Clover.”

He said it like he knows Clover perfectly, in a way he does. Clover owes this man his entire career and more, James is the reason he met Qrow.

Which is why Clover responds, “I’m not here to fix anything for you James, I’m here make sure you know your choices.”

“What choices are you talking about? I’m minutes away from my trial with the council and,” the heat in his words simmer down into a low mournful sound, “you and Qrow are happily together.”

Gods damn, there are two of them, both buried in self-deprecation.

“You should really stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“You always sacrifice your life for others.” He tries not to stare at anything of James’ right side. “Qrow confronted you and he wants you back in his life.”

Most importantly, Qrow still loves James.

That’s not something for Clover to say for him.

“He already has you, Clover.” James argues, likely has a power point in his head for this moment, “Soulmates or not, Qrow and I made mistakes and one of them was pushing each other away.”

“But it’s different now, you’ve both changed.”

Clover may not have known either man like they know the other but he can sense the pains of their past, be it trauma, phantom aches, recovery. Both the tinman and the scarecrow have journeyed on a path only woven in fairytales and nightmares.

It’s plain easy to see Qrow’s stages of life, how those laugh lines around his lips are used.

Now if only James’ own lines can be seen underneath that beard, a byproduct of his self-care.

“No, I haven’t. Qrow’s the one who has changed and improved and I can’t be the reason to ruin him.”

“You’re not, you helped him too.”

“It’s not enough,” he stresses, “I’m not what he needs. You’re better for him, Clover, not me.”

It’s trained instinct to hear a queue in the orchestral notes, but from their talk they almost missed the timing for the dip. Clover will gladly thank his semblance in this moment as he dips James as smoothly as possible.

Rising back up, James is still frowning. Maybe it’s because they’re dancing seconds before gravity takes over his life, where Clover, a treasured partner, dips him back and won’t pull him back up.

Yeah, fat chance at that.

“James, you can’t decide on Qrow’s needs.”

The man bristles, “Really? Look at where all my decisions have led me so far, Clover.”

That’s when the music ends, where the audience claps politely before Whitley calls for the General and his military.

James doesn’t give Clover, or Qrow, another look as he embraces his steely persona like it’s the only thing that makes sense in his life.

Clover does turn his gaze to his soulmate as he, Penny, Winter, and Robyn follow the General.

“Wish us luck,” he says playfully, the complete opposite of his nervous gut.

The storm inside him calms as Qrow effortlessly replies back, “I mean they already invited you, didn’t they?”

Hearing that tease is a bit surprising, more so is the fact that apparently Doctor Grey, fancily dressed, has found Qrow during all of this.

Knowing her, she’s psychoanalyzing everyone she sees.

That and will likely report to the Reds and Blues about whatever gossip she pulled from Qrow.

Great, that’s totally not something to worry about as they enter Jacques’ dining room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me hope as i write myself into a trial about politics, but like fictional politics of course, where i attempt to roast jacques and add in more details about stuff that was never mentioned in canon. 
> 
> but like this is me so politics will be vaguely glossed over while i get carried away with the other details.
> 
> anyway, i am now in love with golden guard dogs. i am calling that ot3 that for now on. 
> 
> thanks for reading!


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